Histories Revenge
by MJ4
Summary: G1post-BM crossover. WIP. Undergoing complete re-write to improve characterisations, tighten storyline and improve grammar.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Transformers is owned by Hasbro and Takara, I only own some toys.

Prologue

He had been floating through space for years, at best he could guess. How many he was unsure of, but years nonetheless. He had reduced power to his chronometer what seemed like an age ago. He was low on energon, the source of his power. He had barely enough left to function. The end would come soon, he knew that, but something had recently begun to nag at him from the depths of his memory banks. Some distant memory that had been forgotten, or possibly erased from his data store. He couldn't say what it was, strangely he couldn't remember, but something was definitely bothering him and it wasn't that he was going to die. Something in the space around him made him think these thoughts. He was sure he had been here before. He again scanned his memory core but came up empty, but something was definitely...there in front of him, how could he not have seen it? Admittedly he had reduced power to all his systems to a critical level in order to save power, and thusly his life, but how could he have missed THAT? In front of him he saw a giant... spaceship? Or perhaps a space station? Whatever it was it was huge and yet vaguely familiar. Could it be that he had been here before? It was possible that his memory had been damaged when his ship had exploded those many years ago but still, how could he have forgotten this?! It didn't matter anyway, he would soon be out of power and this, whatever it was would remain a mystery. Just then his onboard energy detectors finally picked up the monstrosity before him; it definitely had energy on board, and a lot of it. If he could somehow get into it he could refuel and then he might actually be able to use his memory. But how could he get in? And even if he could get in would he have the energy to find a suitable refuelling area? And if there was anything on board this massive hunk of metal in space would they not try and stop him accessing their power supply? As he contemplated all these he suddenly noticed that he was surrounded by some form of energy beam. It seemed to be dragging him towards it. Whatever it was it wanted him inside. As this realisation dawned on him he suddenly wondered whether dieing first might be better as whatever was inside might just be worse than death, but suddenly his systems seemed to shut down and all that was left was darkness.

Was this a dream, or was this death. Stupid thought really. If he was dead he couldn't be comprehending he was dead, he would be with Primus. Then he noticed a voice inside his head. A computer he was sure he had heard before, from almost another life. He tried to listen closer but was straining to hear what it said, though he could make out some words. "Brain scan comple...identification confirmed. Damage te...port to...". Again he blanked out, whatever it was he could perceive little of what was around him, and yet he felt safe. Almost comfortable in this, whatever it was. Again he heard the sound of the computers monotone "nergise unit in 5,4...1, energising". Suddenly all his systems came back online. His memory cleared. He knew where he was in an instant, everything was clear again. A wry smile spread across his cat-like face. Soon he would get his revenge. Soon all would know and tremble in fear at his name and the name of his comrades and leader. "Computer report" he commanded. The computer replied quickly and efficiently "all stasis chambers still on-line. Prisoners still contained within chambers 20, 21, and 22. Reactivation of troops will commence on your report". His smile grew broader. Soon the Maximals would have something proper to fear. They would suffer for reprogramming him, they would suffer for the pain he felt in the depths of space, and Cybertron would be returned to Primus's true children. With that he transformed into cassette mode and inserted himself into the waiting information slot and downloaded the program that would reactivate his colleagues. After millions of years they would reclaim their home.


	2. The Return

            Cheetor stirred from his slumber. Would he ever truly get used to this feeling, he wondered. His now semi-organic body meant that instead of just shutting down most of his systems for an hour or two whilst he recharged he was now forced to almost 'sleep' as his organic systems needed replenishing with more than just energon. There was also that short period when he came to when he couldn't remember where he was or what he was supposed to be doing. He checked his data store; there was definitely something he was supposed to be... slag. He was meant to be at the council chambers in less than 10 cycles. Just what he needed, to get into the same arguments with the council elders as he had done countless times before since the re-growth of plant life on Cybertron. There were still those who believed that the spread of organic life on the planet should be reduced, if not stopped completely. This feeling was supported extremely strongly by many groups, mostly within the Predacon camps. Damn them, he thought. We've had enough problems with them; we should ship them off the planet, or at least improve their own ability to keep track of their own. Look what happened when Megatron had decided that he didn't like things the way things were run. He transformed into beast mode and quickly ran off towards the council chambers. Recently they had been moved the secret chamber within the old city of Iacon, the former city where Optimus Prime had led the Autobot resistance against the Decepticons during the Cybertronian Wars. This, again, was a move that many of the Predacon representatives had been against. 'Why should the council chambers be in Iacon, why couldn't they be somewhere more neutral?' Natural enough at first thought. But everything was already there, including an area where the council was able to meet undisturbed away from prying sensors and, most importantly, who would look for them there?

            Cheetor approached the city. Before him the huge rounded dome of Iacon could be seen for miles around and in front of that, before the doors were reached, a full size statue of Optimus Prime, the hero of Cybertron, looked down upon all those who came near. Cheetor transformed back into robot mode as he approached the doors, and they slid apart before him. The height of the rooms was enormous as they used to be able to contain the giant robots that they had once been. It was now used primarily as a relic and a walk in memorial to those who had died during the Great War. What was in the lowest level, however, was a secret meeting area where the Maximal Elders Council met when they had important matters to discuss and didn't wish to be overheard. As he moved forward towards the lift that would take him to the lowest level and the council chambers he heard a voice call his name. He looked behind him and he saw the Predacon representative running towards him. Damn it, he thought, just what I needed. He turned and showed him a false smile. "Representative Night-stalker, greetings". 

Night-stalker, quite large for a Predacon though still smaller than Cheetor, always gave the impression of disdain for everyone. Whether this was accidental or he actually believed he was better than everyone Cheetor was never sure, his glowing purple optics never gave any hint of what he was thinking. He had also got himself embroiled in many an argument with the Predacon representative. 

"Good day to you. Are you headed to the meeting with the Maximal Elders Council?" Asked Night-stalker in his characteristically smooth manner. You know full well I am thought Cheetor, but he needed to at least maintain the precept of friendship, at least whilst he was in the main chamber.

"Yes" he answered. 

"Really, well according to my chronometer you're a little late aren't you?" Cheetor could feel the rage building inside of him. This Predacon was purposefully annoying him, and judging by what he could see of his smile (as most of his lower face was covered by a semi-transparent faceplate) he seemed to be enjoying this. 

"Well you seem to be headed to the same place, so if I'm late you must be also". Finally, he thought, I've got one up on him at last. 

"Yes you're quite correct, I am late" replied Night-stalker "because I was waiting for you, I was hoping for another of our...interesting conversations?" Cheetor felt like ripping Night-stalkers audio's out, then he would see how much he would enjoy their conversation but was stopped by the tour group which was passing by not too far from where they stood. A Maximal tour guide walked ahead of a small group of young Maximals and Predacons as he described to them what Iacon had been like before and during the Great War. He also noticed that the two Predacons in the group were stood at the back talking to themselves completely ignoring everything the guide was telling them. This was the problem with the Predacons, no thought of history and not making the same mistakes. Instead they were still aggressive and adversarial and he would be sure to make that clear to the council again when he finally got down there. 

            Night-stalker also noticed the group nearby. He turned to look at them. Disgusting, he thought. Two Predacons being dragged around by a group of Maximals. He felt sorry for them. They would be brainwashed by the Maximals to believe that all of Cybertron's problems, past and current, were because of them. Even the way that they had been segregated on the tour, having to follow on at the back of the group merely underlined the fact that the Maximals treated them as nothing more than second-class citizens. Even the council never had more than three Predacons within its main chamber, and when these secret sessions were held only he was allowed access. Again he would try and make the council see reason. Memorials to history were all well and good but there were no memorials of his ancestors, only theirs. There were none of their former cities still used but here they were inside Iacon, one of the largest of the Autobot cities where countless military actions were planned against his ancestors and in front of him were two of his brethren being told of the Autobot heroes, with no consideration of their ancestors. It disgusted him.

            The lift arrived and the doors slid back. Both Cheetor and Night-stalker walked in. As the doors closed behind them Night-stalker turned to Cheetor and asked, "Do you enjoy the fact that you are better than us?"

"I don't know what you mean" replied Cheetor "Council chambers". A computerised voice came over the intercom. "Clearance code". 

"C7 412 gamma" replied Cheetor. The lift immediately began to descend. 

"Don't play coy with me" said Night-stalker "we both know that the Maximals are the rulers of Cybertron and that the Predacons are merely here because you don't know what to do with us". The anger began to rise in Cheetor again. It wouldn't have been so bad but the cool, calm way that Night-stalker spoke, as if trying to entice some helpless animal into a trap, infuriated him. 

"You know as well as I do that all Predacons have the same rights as any Maximal".

"Really, well that does interest me" answered Night-stalker "as I always got the impression that the council didn't trust us". "Don't be ridiculous, if they didn't trust you wouldn't be allowed to enter the main chamber let alone this chamber!"

"True enough" replied Night-stalker, his head nodding slightly. "But then there is only one of us and many of you" he added. As it should be, thought Cheetor. He couldn't imagine a world where the Predacons had control. No, worse in fact, he had been to one. Not that long ago when Megatron had had control over the planet, and it was for that reason he was happy that the Maximals were again in control. 

"Yes, but then no Maximals are allowed entrance to any of the Predacon councils at all".

"Predacon councils?" Night-stalker asked inquisitively. "There are no Predacon councils".

"Oh come off it," shouted Cheetor, finally starting to lose his temper. "No Predacon councils! You must think I was only created yesterday. We all know that the Predacons are made up of small groups each of which have they're own councils and each of which are in a constant power struggle with themselves. You couldn't run the planetary affairs or if you did you would most likely destroy us all!" An even larger smile drew across Night-stalkers face. 

"Thank you for that amazing insight into the Maximal mind" Cheetor felt angry, shamed and embarrassed all at once. He had let his personal feelings come to the fore and had given Night-stalker exactly what he wanted. Damn him, he thought. Of all the Predacon representatives why did the Elders always seem to allow him everywhere? And why was he nearly always so foolish as to allow him to affect him in such a way. Damn him, he thought again.

            The journey in the lift took a long time. Nearly as long as it had taken Cheetor to get to Iacon in the first place. And all the while Night-stalker stood beside him, staring at him intermittently with his glowing purple optics that seemed to bore deep into his very spark. Eventually the lift doors parted and they both walked out. There was a short corridor leading to a large set of double doors. As they approached a computer voice chimed out "please state clearance codes for secure entry". Cheetor stepped forward and answered 

"C7 412 gamma". There was a short pause and the computer replied 

"Incorrect entry code, please state codes for secure entry". Cheetor was taken aback. His code had worked in the lift, why not here. Beside him he could hear Night-stalker chuckling. He was making a poor job of attempting to hide his amusement. Cheetor turned on him and said angrily

 "What by the pit are you laughing at?" Night-stalker turned and calmly replied 

"Oh I'm sorry, I suppose it's not really that funny. But then it does seem a little strange that you, one of the...ruling classes, for want of a better expression, can't enter the council chambers and yet myself, someone who couldn't run planetary affairs without killing us all, can" Cheetor grimaced as Night-stalker turned and said calmly to the computer "entry code N7 666 delta" The computer replied, almost as calmly and annoyingly 

"Code confirmed" The doors slid open to reveal a huge room with a circular table with spaces for all the delegates. There was a small gap at one end allowing entry to the centre of the table and a holographic imaging disc in the centre of the gap. This slightly raised platform could also be used for someone to stand upon should all the council members wish to 'interrogate' an individual. Cheetor hated this room and after he had first become a technorganic he remembered being stood there often as he tried to explain Cybertron's organic history. Few of the members had enjoyed listening to that, and some still didn't believe that it was true even with the fact that plant life now covered a third of the planet's surface. As Cheetor looked around the dimly lit room he noticed that all the spaces, except the two in which he and Night-stalker were meant to use, were already filled. As he walked towards his position he heard one of the delegates say 

"Now that you have finally arrived, we may begin" Cheetor sat. He thanked Primus that Night-stalker was sat at the opposite side of the table; he really didn't want to be sat next to him. The holographic generator in the centre of the room came to life and showed an image of Cybertron, as it did so one of the Council members began to speak. 

"As you are all aware organic life has been spreading throughout the surface of our planet" As he spoke the image changed and greenish splodges began to spread across the image in the centre of the room. "This growth, though welcomed by many, has begun to cause many problems not least to the supply of energon to the third district" Whilst he said this the hologram seemed to zoom in on an area which was teeming with organic life. As the image moved closer individual buildings could be made out on the surface of the planet. The voice continued. "The roots, which the plants require for survival, have been tapping into the energy conduits which supply the city with power. However this is not the only problem. The roots have also begun to undermine the building supports. This has meant that much material has been used in order to strengthen the buildings against collapse as well as using up valuable energy resources. We are here today to discuss the matter of organic life on this planet. How should it be controlled? Should it be controlled? Or should we merely eradicate the organic life on this planet and return the planet to its former state?"

"What!" Cried Cheetor. "You can't be seriously considering the eradication of ALL organic life?" 

"That is one of the options available to us," said the voice. "However, the reason we are here is to allow us to decide which of these ways forward is most appropriate or if we should try and make a compromise between them". 

"But all organic life? What about those like myself who are semi-organic? We have organic components. Would you destroy us too?" For the first time Cheetor was beginning to have doubts about the councils decisions. He had fought with them before, especially during these last decacycles, and had not always agreed with their decisions but he had always felt that they were trying to make the right decisions for the planet and its people. However, to wipe out everything and then act as if it had never happened? This, he felt was extremely wrong. 

"We understood that this decision would provoke differing perspectives and it was for this reason that we have allowed you access to this meeting," said the voice. Cheetor was still unsure as to which of the council members it was who was speaking because of the subdued lighting. "To answer your question, no. We would not destroy the individuals that would be affected. Of course minor alterations to remove and replace their organic components would be required in order to standardise them but their exclusion would not be required". A second voice, this time much closer to Cheetor and older sounding, began to speak. 

"I have been considering becoming a technorganic myself at some point in the not too distant future as I believe that this will be the future of our race. However, I do feel that limited control over the spread of the organic life over the planet is required. Perhaps some form of poison to move it away from the cities?" 

"But what if the poison spreads to the energon supply?" asked another. "Would it have any affect on any of us? Or would it only affect organics? If so would it not also affect technorganics?" 

"Perhaps, for the time being at least, we should stop the modification of citizens to technorganics? At least until we have a clearer picture of what this will do to our bodies in the long term?" 

"Should we even become technorganics?" This voice Cheetor clearly recognised. It's smooth, almost callous disregard for the subject and to those he was talking too could hardly be mistaken. 

"What is your point representative Night-stalker?" 

"Well, as I said, should we become technorganics? As far as I can ascertain we expend precious energon resources into modifying our bodies using some form of 'goo'. We then become these technorganics but as far as I can see this provides us with no clear advantages" 

"You mean apart from the fact that we would become much closer to our own planet and it would provide us with a possible new direction for our evolution" answered Cheetor. 

"I don't feel that this would provide us with any new direction for our evolution. If anything I would see it making us much weaker than we are at present. What form of evolution would do that?" 

"You just mean that it might change weapon technology, you have no real concern about what would happen to us all. And when you say us do you mean all of us, do you mean everyone? Or just your Predacon cronies?" Shouted Cheetor. 

"I mean everyone. Do you?" Answered Night-stalker sneeringly. "And I would rather that you didn't describe my associates as cronies". 

"Enough of this bickering" said one of the elders. "Unless either of you has something helpful to add to this debate then I recommend you both remain quiet".

            The debate, or argument, as to what should happen to organic life on the planet seemed, to Cheetor, to continue for many a megacycle. However, about halfway through this Cheetor noticed a small light blink on in front of one the elders. He also noticed that he began to talk in hushed tones into some form of communicator. He watched him for a long time until he was disturbed by a question from another of the elders. 

"Cheetor!" Snapped someone. Still Cheetor was unable to fully work out who was talking at any time, but he was able to look over in the general direction of the voice. 

"Yes" he answered. 

"If you wish to defend organic life on this planet, than I would recommend that you say something fitting soon". Cheetor almost felt like that was a threat, but he had to defend organic life, though it made him feel very uncomfortable. Why should he have to defend these changes? Surely they should have to give a reason to stop them not him give reasons to allow it to happen? 

"If this was the original state of the planet, then surely it makes sense to allow it to return to this state". 

"True enough" again it was Night-stalker. Why, thought Cheetor, was it always him who would try and poke a hole in his arguments? "But the operative word that you used was 'if'. There is no proof of this, apart from your argument". 

"This was shown to us by the oracle and..." 

"Of course the oracle. It also handily showed you this when we were all unable to see it. But wait. It didn't show YOU it at all did it? In fact I believe it showed one Optimus Primal" Cheetor was again beginning to feel flustered. Of course he had to tell them that it was Primal who saw the visions, not himself, but he had never thought that that would now be used against him. "And, though you tell us now that this technological/organic mixture is good I feel I have to ask, when you first heard of it were you in favour of it? And if not, why do you now feel that it would be in the best interest of us all?" Cheetor felt stunned. How did Night-stalker know that he hadn't been in favour of becoming a technorganic? And why did he wait until now to bring it up? 

"What makes you believe that I haven't always been in favour of this merging?" Cheetor asked as innocently sounding as he could. 

"I heard it from reliable sources" replied Night-stalker sneeringly. 

"Really, would you mind telling us who those 'reliable sources' are?" Cheetor continued. 

"Yes," said one of the elders. "These 'sources' may become valuable if they can gain this form of information". This form of information? Again Cheetor felt that perhaps the council was trying to hide things from the populace. 

"I'm afraid I couldn't give you the identities of my sources. They wish to remain... anonymous" replied Night-stalker. He was clearly enjoying the fact that he had seemingly made an impact, not just on Cheetor, but even some of the elders seemed to be concerned. 

"Perhaps then" began another of the councillors. "You would at least tell us what else these 'reliable sources' have told you?" "I'm afraid not at this time" replied Night-stalker. "I'm sure you understand my need for... reservation in relaying too much information as it may lead you to my sources". 

"If you won't tell us what you know, or who they are how do we know that they are reliable?" asked the elder. 

"Because they are reliable sources" Night-stalker's almost childish response made Cheetor feel like laughing, but there was just something in the way he said it that unnerved him. At that moment an alarm sounded in front of one of the elders. After a few cycles the elder looked up. 

"My apologies for the interruption" Cheetor could hear a twinge of concern in his voice, however he was staring at Night-stalker. He could see that a small communicator had been activated on his right arm and he was listening and talking into it. The elder continued, "I'm afraid that this meeting may have to adjourn until a later date. A large metallic 'craft' has been detected on a direct course for Cybertron. In fact, if our information is judged to be accurate it will reach Cybertronian airspace within just over 1 mega-cycle". Immediately all of the councillors began speaking at once.

"What is it?" asked one.

"Does it pose a threat?" asked another.

"If you would all mind quietening down a little," said the first elder. "Our information is sketchy at best, but as far as we have been able to ascertain it is a large craft constructed from a Cybertronian alloy and that it is in powered flight towards us. Other than that we know nothing conclusive at this time" At this point Night-stalker spoke. 

"You're not telling us everything are you counsellor". 

"I don't know what you mean," replied the elder. 

"Really, well that's interesting because I heard that it seems to be slowing down". 

"How did you...?" Cheetor thought he heard concern in the elder's voice. He also felt that what Night-stalker had said was the truth and that again the council was keeping secrets, but now from itself. What was going on here? "We have no information about that at this time. However any information that you may 'think' you have would be greatly received". The elder's composure had returned and he was now trying to find out how much Night-stalker knew. 

"Well if my information is inaccurate, I feel that I need not tell you anymore as it might merely make you make incorrect decisions which would effect us all, and I wouldn't want that on my conscience now would I" Again Night-stalker appeared to have the upper hand. Before anyone could respond to what he had just said he then continued, "Well if this meeting is over, I think I will head over to the southern continent where I should be able to see the smaller craft that has already left the larger one. Anyone else want to join me?" At that he got up and started to walk towards the lift entrance. Immediately some of the other councillors began arguing amongst themselves, whilst others got up to follow Night-stalker out of the chamber. Cheetor also got up and moved towards the door. He was trying to avoid contact with any of the councillors. What he had listened to in the meeting had made him begin to question the loyalties of those who led them and also showed him quite how narrow-minded some of them were. Ahead of him he could see Night-stalker move into the waiting lift, its internal lights so much brighter than those in the room. He was finally able to see the delegates properly. So many faces he had grown to trust, to respect. Could he ever bring himself to completely trust them again? So, he thought, this is how a Predacon thinks.

            He moved quickly through the crowd and only just made it into the lift before the doors slid shut behind. The long trip was made in relative silence. Obviously no one wanted Night-stalker to know what they were thinking about, or perhaps they didn't want anyone to know. As the doors opened they all started to move towards the waiting transports. They were built using the former 'tube' network that riddled Cybertron from before the Great War, though of course the cars had been redesigned to accommodate the smaller Maximals and Predacons. As he entered one of the of the waiting cars he looked around, and to his surprise Night-stalker was nowhere to be seen. He had expected him to move over to him and start another annoying conversation. However, some of the things that Night-stalker had said in the Council chambers had given him cause for concern, as well as perking his interest. How had he known about how Cheetor had formally felt about becoming a technorganic, especially as the Council had deemed this information classified? Why, also, had the Council deemed it classified? Also, how did he seem to know about this, whatever it was, currently heading towards the planet? And who was he communicating with during the meeting?

            All these questions kept him occupied throughout the journey to Mechacity. Mechacity, Cheetor was always impressed whenever he came here. It was one of the last cities to be built before organic life was reintroduced to Cybertron. It was also one of the largest on the planet. The central dome of the city measured more than 250 floors up and another 200 underground. Its immense structure was about as large as Iacon and was the capital city and pride of the third district. Sadly, rather than trying to adapt the area to cope with the growth of organic life they preferred to eradicate it, though to his optics the huge variation of plant life in the area merely added to its beauty. As he stepped out of the transport, which had dropped them off outside the city limits, he was greeted by the sight of the city in the background. It was at that point that he noticed that the whole area around him was crowded with Maximals and Predacons, and more continued to arrive in other transports behind him, as well as many moving into the area in vehicle and beast modes. It seemed that the news that the Council wanted to keep secret wasn't going to remain so. He looked up and his jaw dropped. Above him a huge metallic craft was looming over them. It was still too far away to make out the markings that were on the base of two immense wings, but it was the sheer size of it that took him aback, and it was still getting closer. He looked around him to see if there was anyone around that he recognised. There were a few council members who had been in the meeting with him, though they seemed to be clustered together, probably discussing something that they didn't want anyone else to know about. He continued to look around. Behind him he noticed the tour guide that had been guiding others around Iacon when he had arrived. He could hear the shuttle now and he saw that the guide was trying to discern the markings, had it got that close already? He looked up again and sure enough it was almost on top of them. It had also almost reached a full stop just slightly higher than the central dome. He was looking at the two large purple insignia on the base of the craft when he heard a voice behind him. Turning he saw the guide shaking his head and backing away muttering over and over 

"No... No...It's not possible! No" Cheetor turned and said 

"What is it?" Again the guide muttered 

"It's not possible, it can't be" Another voice shouted out 

"Look, its opening". 

"No" Cried the guide and then screamed at the top of his vocaliser "Everybody, RUN!" Cheetor looked up to see what it was that had caused the guide so much panic and he saw a huge shadow in the open hatch. Then a booming, emotionless, metallic voice commanded 

"Decepticons, ATTACK!"


	3. Destruction of the 3rd District

DISCLAIMER: Sadly Hasbro etc still haven't given ownership of the transformers trademark so for everyone who cares I don't own them, except many toys, comics, videos, DVD's etc. However I do own Night-stalker and Dive-bomber. Anyone can use them, but I would like to be asked 1st as I've grown rather attached to them.

                Immediately multiple giant robots leapt from the shuttle. As Cheetor watched many of the Decepticons transformed into large jet powered aircraft and immediately began diving assaults on the crowds of onlookers that had gathered to watch. The immense explosions as missile after missile impacted on the ground almost shook Cheetor off his feet. Still he could see more large figures leaping from the craft, and as he turned to run he counted at least fifteen Decepticons in the air firing into the crowds and yet still more were piling out. As Cheetor ran he looked over his shoulder. A large purple robot transformed in midair into a large gun and as it did so it seemed to float slowly towards the ground. Then a bright painful flash of light as it fired seared the air and struck the Maximal before him, the guide who had screamed at them all to run, vaporised into a steaming pile of molten metal.

The screams filled the air. Those small, insignificant, puny beings that they were supposed to have 'evolved' into now ran for cover. The Autobots legacy clearly lived on. They didn't even attempt to fight back they just ran. And so they will die, it was inevitable. Shockwave transformed back into robot mode. Before him he could see Ramjet, Thrust, Dirge and Blitzwing in jet mode strafing those on the ground below. Behind him he heard Astrotrain transform into robot mode. His shuttle mode helped carry them here from the suspension ship much easier than if they had flown here individually or tried to get it closer to Cybertron. Below him he could see his warriors embroiled in the slaughter of their new enemies with, it seemed, even more zeal than they had done when fighting the Autobots. Blitzwing had now transformed into tank mode and had joined Brawl, Swindle, Onslaught and Soundwave on the ground near what looked like the old mass transit system exit. He could also see explosions near the city. It looked as if these…Maximals? had some metal after all. They were using some form of city defence to attempt to knock the jets out of the sky. He surveyed the battlefield to see which of his troops were nearest. "Stunticons, Constructicons unite and destroy the city," ordered Shockwave.

Cheetor was running as quickly as he could away from the city. He knew that that would be the Decepticons first target. He looked back to try and see the city in the background but as he did so he stopped not believing his eyes. Before him he could see Decepticons joining together, these giant beings that towered over him, were now forming two of the largest robots he had ever seen. They both measured roughly half the height of the city central dome. Then as the green one lunged towards some of the taller buildings he heard a booming voice say "Prepare for extermination".

Shockwave would have smiled, if he could. His single optic watched as first Devastator then Menasor smashed through the city buildings one by one. The guns had been silenced very quickly as the onslaught had continued. The thought then occurred to Shockwave that the buildings would continue underground, as had almost all Cybertronian cities he remembered. "Soundwave" commanded Shockwave. "Destroy the city foundations".

"As you command" replied Soundwave in his deep, tinny monotone. "Rumble, Frenzy eject. Operation devastation". He pressed a small button on his shoulder and his chest panel flipped open. Immediately two cassettes flew out and transformed into two smaller robots, who themselves were taller than the average Maximal. They flew towards the city and landed near the dome.

"First they crack the shell," said Rumble, motioning towards Devastator.

"Then we crack the nuts inside" answered Frenzy as they both transformed their arms into large pile drivers and started to smash down on the planets surface.

As Cheetor watched he saw two small Decepticon warriors fly into the city. A few cycles later he watched on in horror as the dome, the centrepiece of the third district collapsed. All he could do was run.

A large view-screen glowed, providing almost all the light in the room. On it he could see the battle, or slaughter of his…colleagues. He pointed towards a section of the screen away from the main battle. "Zoom in there" He commanded with his cool, calm voice. The viewer zoomed in close enough to see individual Maximals and Predacons running for their lives. "Bring me him, unharmed"

"Yes sir" came the reply. So, he thought. Maybe you will be more receptive to what I have to say from now on. The viewer continued to track Cheetor through the crowds.

            The Maximals and Predacons continued to run. Shockwave watched as the Stunticons disengaged from each other, transformed into vehicular modes and started chasing and shooting Maximals as they fled from the buildings. He watched as Blitzwing transformed back into his aircraft mode flew into the air and then dived into the middle of a large group of Maximals, transformed back into robot mode and began to slash at them with his sword. Pieces of Maximal flew everywhere as they attempted in vain to escape. Good, he thought. The area would be cleared soon and then the second part of his plan could come into operation. Soon Cybertron would be theirs again.

As Cheetor ran he could hear the explosions behind him. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun round to see who had grabbed him. Before him he saw a medium-sized Predacon rather stocky in appearance. "Would you come with me please," he said politely to Cheetor, though it still sounded more like an order than a request.

"You have got to be kidding" Replied Cheetor.

"Sorry, but no. This way please" Answered the Predacon and ushered him through the crowds. Cheetor couldn't believe what he was hearing but felt he had very little choice, especially as the vice like grip of this Predacon seemed to increasing around his shoulder. Reluctantly Cheetor followed him.

            He led Cheetor through the crowds. "Stand here one moment please" He said. Cheetor turned to shout at him that there was no way that he was standing still whilst the slaughter that was going on behind them continued but he was suddenly sucked upwards. He looked up and suddenly he was inside what seemed to be a large craft that was floating above the surface of the planet. I didn't see this, but how could I have missed it, thought Cheetor. Before he could ask anyone he was ushered into a lift by the Predacon. A computerised voice came over the intercom "What level" it asked.

"Control room" replied the Predacon. Immediately the lift began moving upwards. It moved so quickly Cheetor was sure he could feel the change in pressure as they rose. Suddenly it stopped and the doors opened to reveal a darkened room. Almost all the light was provided by what looked to be a giant view screen at the far end of the room. Around the edge there were a number of smaller consoles with Predacons working at them. In the centre of the room there looked to be a large command chair. He could see two arms on the armrests. He then heard a voice that he recognised emanate from the centre of the room. "Please, Cheetor, come in" said a characteristically smooth voice. As Cheetor looked on the chair in the centre of the room rotated and there seated in front of him was Night-stalker. "So pleased you made it at last," He said. "I do hope that Dive-Bomber here wasn't to hard on you. Good worker but a little to eager sometimes".

"What…Where?" Cheetor began but was stopped by Night-stalker raising his hand. "All will be explained in time. For now though I thought you might like to watch this." He motioned towards the viewer. "Your friends have just sent in the cavalry". On the viewer Cheetor could see multiple Maximals approaching the area of battle, each one armed to the teeth. "Now we shall see how good Maximal weapons and soldiers are against my ancient ancestors".

            Shockwave surveyed the battlefield. Everything was going perfectly as he had planned it. Suddenly Soundwave turned towards him. "Shockwave, Maximal forces approaching from the South". Shockwave turned his attention to the area his single optic automatically zooming in to where Soundwave had motioned. He saw roughly two hundred Maximals approaching, each one fully armed. So, he mused, there is still some strength left. "Combaticons, Stunticons, Constructicons disengage and deal with them" he ordered. Immediately they all disengaged from the slaughter and moved to intercept the Maximal troops.

            On the viewer Cheetor and Night-stalker watched as the Maximal troops surged forwards. They saw many Decepticons leave their positions and move in to attack the incoming forces. As the Decepticons moved into the Maximals weapons range they opened fire. Immediately two of the Decepticons, one another shuttle and one a rotor-powered aircraft fell out of the sky crashing down onto the ground below. Cheetor whooped but his outburst was cut short however as it could be clearly seen that they had not been badly damaged as they transformed into their robot modes and began returning fire. Five ground vehicles moving at high speed then crashed through the Maximal frontline sending many flying into the air. "Is their any sound to this?" Asked Cheetor anxiously. Night-stalker merely motioned to one of his subordinates and the room was filled with the sound of explosions and shouts. Though the fast moving ground vehicles seemed to be able to move in and out of the Maximal lines at leisure the Maximals had been able to pin down five Decepticons, who were desperately attempting to reach another group of six who were starting to make a small front down one side of the Maximal forces. Cheetor could see that the smaller group of Decepticons were talking between themselves as they fought. "Can we hear what they're saying?" He asked. Again Night-stalker motioned and the volume was increased. The noise was deafening but Cheetor thought he could just make out what they were saying.

"We're out numbered," Said the one who had formally been the shuttle.

"Well then lets improve the odds," Said the taller one. "Combaticons transform into Bruticus". Immediately the five of them transformed into another larger robot. Cheetor cursed under his breath. They heard a loud booming voice emanate from the large gestalt. "Bruticus angry. Bruticus outnumbered but Bruticus will win!" The sheer firepower as he opened fire blew many of the Maximals near him to atoms. A small group attempted an encircling manoeuvre around him but he crushed most of them with his foot before blowing the others to pieces. It was then he heard the cry go up "Retreat" Ordered the Maximal commanders. The Maximal troops split into two groups in an attempt to make the withdrawal easier. Many immediately transformed as they tried to escape whilst others heroically stood their ground in an attempt to give their comrades time to escape.

            He watched the Maximals retreat. This was something he had been waiting for for a long time. A thought occurred to him, if they could find out exactly where the Maximal and Predacon bases were. He ran over to Shockwave. "Shockwave"

"What is it" Answered Shockwave.

"We need those forces to escape. We can track them and find out where their bases are"

"Agreed" Replied Shockwave. He turned to Soundwave. "Order Laserbeak and Buzzsaw to track each group"

"Laserbeak, Buzzsaw, eject. Operation reconnaissance" Soundwave's chest panel flicked open and two cassettes ejected. They transformed in mid-air into large metallic condors', one red and one gold, and flew in the direction of the retreating Maximals.

            "It seems to be over" Said Night-stalker, to nobody in particular. He turned to one of his subordinates who stood at a console in front of the main view-screen. "Get us out of here" he commanded. 

"Aye sir" came the reply.

"That's it?" Blurted out Cheetor. "You're not going to do anything?"

"And what would you have me do?" Asked Night-stalker calmly. That voice annoyed Cheetor even more now than it had ever done. Had he just watched the same things occur that Cheetor had? He didn't show any emotion. "Well you could try and fight them, something. I don't know. Help them"

"You mean like you were" Answered Night-stalker. "You were so much help down their heroically running away from danger. Yes I think that is what I will do" 

"Well I didn't have this ship, I'm sure its armed. Surely if you Predacons are so powerful surely you should be able to deal with them" Said Cheetor mockingly. Night-stalker suddenly turned on Cheetor. It surprised Cheetor how quickly Night-stalker was out of his seat and stood in front of him, he didn't even notice he had moved. "And risk the lives of my crew, I don't think so. I think I will withdraw and await orders, rather than that foolish effort that your leaders tried to put together. Did they really think they would win? It was a foolish waste of life and I am pleased that I had no part in it" The venom that Night-stalker spat the words at Cheetor with took him aback, he'd never even heard him raise his voice before. So you do have feelings then he thought. "You understand nothing," continued Night-stalker shaking his head sadly. "You believe what you are told by your superiors, your elders. Like a good little drone doing exactly as he is told" His voice changed to a very bad mimic of the head of the council. "'We are the oldest of the old. We are the wisest of the wise. We know what is best for Cybertron'. They know as little about this situation, any situation than you do"

"And I suppose you knew all about this before it even happened didn't you?" Replied Cheetor sarcastically. Night-stalkers eyes hardened on Cheetors face. "You did know…"

"Yes I did know, something"

"Then why didn't you say so? YOU could have saved hundreds of lives" Cheetor could hardly believe what he was hearing. Night-stalker had known about this and done nothing? He knew he had personality flaws but not even he imagined this.

"Of course I didn't do nothing" Retorted Night-stalker. "I attempted on many occasions to tell the council that something of this nature could happen in the near future but what did I get? 'What does a Predacon know that our security doesn't?' You Maximals and your beliefs in right and wrong, but there is only one major problem with your belief structure. You believe yourselves always to be right and everyone else is wrong. Well look what it's got you? And now that you're in dire peril you tell me that I should use this ship and do something. Well fine, we are going to do something but we need help and this, my dear Cheetor, this is where you come in" Night-stalkers voice had changed from being harsh and accusing to his more traditional calm and conspiratorial tone. A true career politician, thought Cheetor. "I want you to recommend to the council, or at least what's left of it, to bring Cybertronian security forces under Predacon control" Cheetor could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"Let me get this right. You want me to walk up to the Maximal council and give a recommendation that they let you take control of all security forces on the planet? You must be joking"

"This is no joke" Replied Night-stalker. "We have forces but they are not strong enough to deal with this threat alone, especially as we have no idea exactly what it is that the Decepticons are after"

"Well surely they're after this planet, their home?" Cheetor thought this was obvious, even to Night-stalker.

"Yes, of course they want the planet back. The question, though, is why begin the assault where they did. Why not a better target, something more strategic?"

"They attacked there because it was a high profile target. What better way to spread fear?"

"True, but for the Decepticons surely the most high profile target for them would be Iacon, this was the base of the Autobots you know. Didn't you do history?" The mocking tone had again returned to Night-stalkers voice. He has to bring Iacon into it somehow doesn't he though Cheetor. Night-stalker continued. "Or they would have tried to land nearer the site of their former base. No there is a reason they landed where they did but I just don't know what it is yet. Anyway, are you going to help me or not?"

"Ok, but only to get the Decepticons off Cybertron. I still don't like you"

"Good" Replied Night-stalker quite cheerily. "I would feel uncomfortable if it were any other way"

            Shockwave stood before his warriors. The Constructicons were already busily demolishing the last of the city buildings and moving the rubble away from the site. Before him he could see Soundwave, Reflector and the Combaticons scanning the ground. The entrance should be around here somewhere. Ahead of him he saw Ramjet flying low over the surface of the planet. As he approached he transformed back into robot mode and landed in front of Shockwave. "Report" Commanded Shockwave.

"All Maximal and Predacons in the area have either been routed or destroyed" He paused as if thinking then continued. "This organic stuff is all over the place. Since when did Cybertron have organic life? Its like being back on that terrain rock-pile of a planet again".

"Agreed" Answered Shockwave. "It would appear that much has happened during our absence but soon we will rectify this small anomaly" The problem was Shockwave was unsure of how to deal with it. He had calculated a 99.9% chance that things would have changed drastically during their time away from Cybertron, however this had never been in any of his calculations. However, this was not the time to be worrying about such things. All that mattered now was finding the entrance corridor then they would be able to instigate phase two of the operation. He heard a bleep in the direction of Soundwave. He turned. "Soundwave, have you anything to report?"

"I believe that I have found the entrance we have been searching for. However it appears to be covered in a thick concentration of organic material," replied Soundwave.

"Well lets just blow our way through," shouted Brawl as he transformed into Tank mode. Soundwave jumped out of the way, anticipating the blast that emanated from Brawls turret. The explosion hit the organic matter and blew it to pieces, however before any of them could move towards the entrance it was again sealed by an organic cover. Interesting, thought Shockwave. Again Brawl fired and again the same thing happened. Shockwave turned to Soundwave. "Soundwave analyse the organic material" Soundwave scanned it. "It would appear to be made up of standard organic matter found on all organic infested planets. However, there would seem to be some form of fast growing property which is feeding off the energon within our weapons" Soundwave turned to Shockwave. "It would also appear to have a metallic neural signature"

"Supposition?" Asked Shockwave.

"I would surmise that some outside influence is effecting the organism"

"But who would use this sort of weapon?" asked Frenzy.

"Unknown" replied Shockwave.

"Well if standard weapons are of no use lets just try brute force," added Motormaster transforming into his vehicle mode. He rammed through the organic cover splitting it into to pieces, however before he was able to leave it reformed in a much thicker consistency. Inside they heard Motormaster transform back into his robotic mode. Soon afterwards they saw a silver blade come slicing through the organic cover. This time, however, rather than the plant merely splitting and reforming a dark green goo began to seep from the end of the organism. It was also noted that it didn't re-grow. Shockwave turned to Soundwave. "Take a sample from the organism for study, it may become useful later" He then turned towards Astrotrain, Blitzwing and the three waiting 'cone heads'. "Return to the ship and transport the prisoners down here, phase two of the operation can begin"

            Night-stalker stalked towards the corridor towards the communications centre. He had sent Cheetor into some quarters to allow him to recharge. Now he had to report to his superiors. He entered a well-lit circular room. In its centre there was a large white glowing disc, slightly raised from the floor. Night-stalker stepped onto it and a small control panel raised from the floor just in front of him. He tapped in the code to allow for secure communication to his leaders. After a few nano-klics the lights went dark and a large holographic image appeared above and ahead of him. He looked up as a voice said, "Report"

"As we expected, the Maximals made an attempt attacking the Decepticon forces. As was predicted they lost. I am now heading towards the Maximal emergency council chambers in order to attempt to gain us command over their forces"

"Have you gained the support of the young Maximal?"

"To a limited extent, though he says that he will recommend we are given control of the security forces. I would request that we keep an eye on him, he may try and get his friends to assist him in gaining information"

"Do not concern yourself with that, we have already moved an operative into a position to block contact with his peers"

"Very well. Do we have any information on what the Decepticons are up to?"

"Information is very limited. We will send through all we have to you. This communication ends"

The lights came up and Night-stalker inserted a small memory disc into the console in front of him. A small readout flashed up 'downloading'. After a few nano-klics it ejected the disc into his hand. As he turned to walk out the room he inserted the disc into a small device on his chest. He began receiving the information directly into his memory core. He stopped walking as he left the room. Slag, he thought and then continued to the control centre.

            He left Astrotrain followed by Blitzwing and the 'cone heads'. Shockwave decided to put him in command of this small, yet highly important, mission. Of course he did, he thought. Shockwave could be annoying but putting him in charge was logical considering Soundwave was remaining on the planet awaiting the return of Laserbeak and Buzzsaw. They walked through the corridors on the ship towards the stasis chambers containing the prisoners. The large doorway ahead of them opened and before them were the stasis chambers that had contained them for their four hundred year sleep. 18…19…ah 20. He stopped. Turning to the others he said, "We will reduce power to the stasis booths slowly and individually. Thrust, you will place the energon bonds on them and also remember to remove HIS power core for his canon". As he spoke about Him he pointed towards booth 20. "Is everyone ready?" Everybody nodded. "Good, Blitzwing reduce power to the booth and open the hatch". Blitzwing set the controls. Around them they heard the power shut down from the booth. The hatch opened and Thrust moved forward to place the bonds on him. However, before he was close enough to do anything they saw within the dark booth two bright red eyes suddenly flicker on. Slag, he thought. Galvatron was awake.


	4. Naming of a spy

DISCLAIMER: Sadly I still don't own Transformers. That honour still goes to Hasbro et al. However I do still own the characters of both Night-stalker and Dive-bomber. You can use them if you wish however I would request that you ask first and try to keep their characterisations right.

Any Questions, queries or comments please feel free to e-mail me, and please review.

Now ON WITH THE SHOW

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            "Traitors" screamed Galvatron as he fired his particle canon into Thrusts chest. Noticing that there was very little damage to Thrusts chassis his battle-computer checked his power settings. As he thought, his power hadn't returned to full operating capacity. No matter, he would crush them all with his bare hands. He lunged at the stunned Thrust and slammed him to the ground. He heard a voice from his left cry "What are you all waiting for? Stop him!" Galvatron turned ready to pulverise whoever had spoken, but was stopped short by a blast into his back. He toppled but quickly regained some composure and fired in the direction that the blast had come from.

"No-one can defeat me! I AM GALVATRON! BWWAAAH!" Again he fired, but this time he could see a target. He struck Dirge in the leg sending him toppling to the ground. Looking to his side he saw Ramjet advancing on him. He transformed into his cannon mode and fired at him. Ramjet leapt out of the way and returned fire striking the ground in front of Galvatron. The explosion blasted Galvatron backwards as he returned to his robot mode. He felt someone grab his right shoulder. Unable to bring his weapon to bear he swivelled and tried to land a punch on his assailant with his left hand, missed and almost fell to the ground. He then felt another hand on his left shoulder as whoever was behind him tried to force his arms together. Galvatron kicked backwards unbalancing whoever was holding him and they both collapsed in a heap on the ground. Before he could get up though he noticed from the corner of his optic a blaster pointing in his face and a voice he recognised say "If you move even one micron I will happily blow your head to pieces" Galvatron looked up to confirm who had threatened him. Above him he saw Blitzwing and Ramjet both with weapons trained on him.

"Traitors. I will have you all melted down into scrap for this!"

"I don't think you're in any position to threaten" spat Blitzwing.

"Fit his bonds, and do it right this time," said some small creature Galvatron didn't recognise, but there was something familiar about him. After his bonds were fitted the small one then said, "Now then, lets try the other two. And lets not make a slag-pile out of it this time"

            Cheetor stalked from the lift into the command centre of the Predacon ship. Night-stalker was still in his command chair with Dive-bomber stood next to him. They were both looking over some data pad that Dive-bomber had in his hand. Cheetor tried to creep closer so that he would be able to see what was on the pad before anyone noticed him. However, before he was able to get more than a few paces from the lift he heard Night-stalker say, "Enjoy the recharge?"

"It was alright," replied Cheetor. Who was he kidding? After the day he had had he had really needed it.

"Good" replied Night-stalker. "You may be pleased to learn that we are on final approach to Iacon. I believe that's where the council have returned. They should already be in emergency session. Would you care to join me?"

As if I have a choice, thought Cheetor. "I would be love to" he answered sarcastically.

"Excellent" Night-stalker replied, seeming to ignore Cheetors tone. "Dive-bomber, you have command until I return. Shall we?" Night-stalker ushered towards the lift. Cheetor turned and stalked back into the lift without offering an answer. Night-stalker followed a smile spreading from behind his faceplate.

            "Laserbeak returns Shockwave" said Soundwave as Laserbeak flew low over the surface of the planet and landed on Soundwave's shoulder.

"Excellent" answered Shockwave. "Playback his report"

"As you command" answered Soundwave as he transformed into his cassette player mode and Laserbeak transformed into a cassette inserting himself into the tape deck.

"Maximal command forces have returned to the former Autobot city of Iacon. They have entered a lift which descended to newly constructed lower levels, however access was not permissible," said a tinny voice through Soundwave's speaker. After the report was completed Soundwave returned to his Robot mode.

"At least we know where they are. Any news from Buzzsaw?" Asked Shockwave.

"Negative" replied Soundwave, his voice concealing the slight concern he was beginning to feel.

"Very well" Shockwave turned towards the passage. "Astrotrain has reported that they have collected the prisoners and should return here in approximately three thousand astro-seconds. When they return I want to be ready to move off. Combaticons I want you to remain here on guard. No one is to follow us. Is that understood?"

"Of course" replied Onslaught. "No one will get past us"

"If they try we'll smash 'em to pieces" shouted Brawl.

            Buzzsaw surveyed the area. From his vantage point he could see hundreds of Maximal troops milling around. Troops, how what he saw could be classified as an army was a joke to him. They were a rag-tag bunch of Maximals who had armed themselves and felt that they could take on the Decepticons. Pathetic. He continued to survey what was below him, his sensors tuned into any movement or sound that might be of interest. This is what he enjoyed doing, spying. He was good at it too. Who was he kidding, he was the best. One thing that he had noticed when tracking the returning Maximals was their distinct lack of security precautions. Not one of them had looked to see if they were being followed. It seems that all this peace had reduced any semblance of common military procedures out of their tiny little minds. He had also noted a lack of Predacons. If they were at peace, surely they would work together. He put the thought aside; he could come back to it later for now his orders were simple 'track the fleeing Maximals back to their base and estimate size of force'. He did a final scan of the area. He watched as the medics attempted to deal with the injured who had survived the attack on the Decepticons. They were even bigger fools than the Autobots had been, at least they would normally have damaged a proportion of the Decepticon forces before beating hasty retreats. Ah well, it was none of his concern. Evolution, he scoffed, it was more like fighting flesh creatures than fighting transformers. Then he noticed something. He zoomed his optics in and could clearly see that there was some form of division between the Maximals, and it wasn't clear-cut rank. As he looked closer he could see that the division seemed to be between Maximals that had had biological implants inserted within their systems and the norms. Interesting. He was about to see if he could find out any more information but he noticed that a group of Maximals were heading in his direction. Though, he deduced, he could probably take on the small force, there were only four of them, it was not part of his mission and he would quite likely give away his position. He filed a final report into his data store and checking that no one was looking in his direction, he flew off to give his report to Shockwave.

            Cheetor and Night-stalker landed on the ground. They were dropped in a similar manner to that which had taken Cheetor up to the Predacon ship. Their descent slowed just before they touched the ground. Cheetor looked up but could not see the ship.

"Alright" Cheetor said to Night-stalker. "How'd you do that?"

"Do what?" Night-stalker replied, sounding unsure as to what Cheetor meant.

"Do I really have to spell it out for you?" Cheetor asked angrily. Night-stalker continued to stare at him with a bemused expression on his face. You're good, Cheetor thought. You're real good. "Alright then. Why can't I see the ship?" he said pointing upwards.

"What ship?" answered Night-stalker looking even more bemused. He looked towards some bystanders with a look that said 'any idea what he's talking about?' They merely shied away from his glance.

"Alright. Fine. Be like that. See if I care. Just remember you need MY recommendation if you want control over the Maximal security forces" 

Night-stalker turned to Cheetor. "And what do you mean by that?" he asked as nonchalantly as possible.

"Don't you give me that" said Cheetor. "Just remember YOU need MY help so if I ask you a question you had better answer it OK"

"Very well" replied Night-stalker in a resigned tone. "What would you like to know?"

"Why can't I see the ship?"

"Simple. It's cloaked," replied Night-stalker as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

"I can see that" he said angrily.

"Really?" answered Night-stalker. "If that's true there must be a fault with the system" he smiled at Cheetor.

"You know what I mean," replied Cheetor his heckles rising. "How do you have cloaking technology? I thought it was banned"

"I thought time travel was banned as well but you went back in time didn't you. Please could you tell me how you did that?"

"We were following Megatron and I would add that HIS ship was the one with time travel capabilities not ours, we were merely dragged along for the ride"

"Interesting" replied Night-stalker as if mulling something over in his mind. "But then you are aware of the particulars of how Megatron got hold of that ship aren't you"

"Well…" began Cheetor. He wasn't sure how much Night-stalker knew, and didn't really want to let slip how little of the situation he really knew, or could remember. In fact he wasn't sure why he didn't remember.

"I see," replied Night-stalker looking understandably at Cheetor. For an instant it looked to Cheetor that Night-stalker was looking at him like a concerned parent. He quickly shook himself out of that feeling when a voice in the back of his mind said 'are you kidding? You know this guy, he doesn't give a slag about you or anyone else but himself'.

Night-stalker continued. "Then perhaps you would like me to fill you in on the particulars of their ship. It was a stolen prototype called the Darkside. This was a Maximal craft fitted with a secret, experimental transwarp engine that would be capable of travelling the ship through space and time. As you are aware, of course, this experiment was a success however due to the destruction of the shipyards we were accidentally made aware of this little…anomaly and so a petition was lodged. Of course all knowledge of this event was covered up" Night-stalker smiled at Cheetor, it sent a chill through Cheetors circuits. "What you may not have been aware of was that your whole mission was a bit of an embarrassment to the council. When your ship disappeared it was hoped that you and all of your shipmates had been destroyed. They tried to cover up the fact that anyone had travelled through time and it was reported that Predacon revolutionaries had been killed whilst trying to start another war. You can imagine the problems it caused when they received your signal saying that you had captured Megatron and that you were all returning home" Night-stalkers smile had changed to more of a sneer now and Cheetor was feeling more and more uncomfortable under Night-stalkers gaze. He thought back to his time on earth. So, this is how it feels to have a predator stalk you. "You were also clever enough to repeat the experiment to get back home, and you did such a good job of it too. Well done"

"But what has this got to do with your having cloaking technology?" Cheetor asked meekly. He had so many thoughts running through his head. He had always wondered why the council had grilled him and his friends so harshly when they had returned home. He had always thought that it was because Cybertron had turned into an organic planet, yet still what Night-stalker had said made sense but, and why couldn't he remember any of this?

"It has everything to do with it" Night-stalkers grin grew broader as he interrupted Cheetors thoughts. "And nothing. Shall we continue?" He motioned towards Iacon. Cheetor just nodded. Night-stalkers cryptic answer meant nothing to him. I'll call Rattrap or Silverbolt later, they'll get something out of him he thought, but for now he had to talk to the council again.

            Night-stalker knew he had confused the poor little Maximal. Contrary to what Cheetor probably felt about him he actually felt no animosity towards Cheetor at all. In fact he pitied him a little. He had had time with only himself and his shipmates. He had seen combat and seen many of his close friends die, but then here he was and in traditional Maximal fashion he had returned home and the Elders had told him to do something and he had done it. He wondered if Cheetor knew about the chip they had implanted in his head, and in the heads of all his shipmates. Probably not, and for now there was no need to concern them over it, however it was another bargaining posture he had open to him. The problem he was going to face was the council itself. They would be extremely unwilling to hand control over their limited forces over to the Predacons but then with a little support here and there he was sure he would be able to 'convince' them. He checked his chronometer. This little conversation with Cheetor had slowed their pace; they had better not be late.

            He sat in the back of Astrotrain as they returned to Cybertron. Galvatron was still screaming at them as to how he would melt them all into scrap. It was sad really. When he had first returned in this guise Galvatron had been extremely powerful and clearly the leader Megatron had once been, but now. It didn't matter too much really, they would soon be rid of his madness one way or another.

"Approaching Cybertron. Prepare to disembark" Astrotrains voice came booming over the intercom. He moved towards the hatch. He could see Galvatron's optics following him still trying to ascertain who his small Decepticon captor was. He opened the hatch and looked out. Below him he could see the other Decepticons milling around the entrance to the tunnel. As he watched he saw Buzzsaw return, transform into his cassette mode and insert himself into Soundwave's chest compartment. No doubt he was bringing back some form of report. They were now quite close to the ground. He turned to the others.

"Blitzwing, Ramjet take Galvatron. Dirge, Cyclonus. Thrust, Scourge. Everybody ready? Lets go" He turned and leapt from the open hatchway, his thrusters slowing his descent. He looked behind and saw Ramjet and Blitzwing almost throw Galvatron out of the hatch and then grab a shoulder each and begin to lower him to the ground, still cursing them as he went. Dirge and Thrust however seemed comparatively gentler with their prisoners. As he landed Shockwave turned to him.

"We are having trouble accessing the lower levels of Iacon. Due to your size and knowledge of some of the changes that have occurred on this planet during our absence I want you to sneak in and find out what the Maximal and Predacons are discussing. It would be helpful to know what their next move might be"

"Understood. But how are you going to get me close enough to Iacon without being detected, its not as if any of you are small enough not to be seen"

"That has already been prepared" Shockwave turned to Soundwave.

"Buzzsaw prepare for flight" At that Soundwave's chest panel opened and Buzzsaw again ejected from his chest compartment, retuning to his bird mode.

"Buzzsaw will transport you to Iacon. From there it will be up to you to find a way into the lower levels"

"Should be easy enough" He turned to Buzzsaw. "So how do you intend to carry me?" Buzzsaw grinned and with one swift movement leapt into the air and grabbed hold of his shoulders in his claws, engaged his boosters and flew off into the distance.

            Night-stalker and Cheetor walked into the council chamber. As soon as they did all of the council members looked in their direction, Cheetor noticed many empty seats.

"You can't come in here. We have given no such permission," shouted one of the council members, clearly perturbed by the interruption.

"In fact as the official Predacon representative I think you will find that I have every right to be here" Night-stalker calmly replied. You're enjoying this thought Cheetor.

"I would dispute that," replied the council member who had spoken before. "However HE has not been given any such permission"

"He is with me," answered Night-stalker his voice never changing its tone even slightly. "And lets be honest, I really think you have much more important things to be concerned than myself, and whether I bring someone to this discussion or not" He looked around the room at the elders gathered there. "We may be seated?" he asked, a wry smile spreading across his face as he pulled the nearest chair to him out and sat down. Cheetor only noticed the smile because of his proximity to him. The council muttered something between them but there were no more arguments.

"So what have we been discussing in our absence hmm? Nothing interesting I hope"

"If you have nothing worth discussing here, or can't take this situation seriously then I would ask you in the nicest fashion to remove yourself before we HAVE you removed" shouted one of councillors angrily.

"Very well" replied Night-stalker the smile still evident under his semitransparent faceplate. "I would assume you have been discussing the Decepticon situation, as well as the recent loss of so many of your forces. Would I be correct in that assumption?"

"You would" came the reply.

"And no doubt you have been working extremely hard attempting to form a meticulously brilliant plan in order to destroy, or at the very least expel the Decepticons from the surface of our planet"

"Please," said another voice. "If you are merely going to tell us what we have been doing and are not going to give any sensible recommendations of your own I would ask that you either leave or remain silent" The elders again began speaking amongst themselves in hushed tones in order that Night-stalker not be able to hear what they were saying.

            If this had been a normal situation Night-stalker would have laughed at how easily he had annoyed the council. However this was not a normal situation. He was enjoying the animosity that the elders had been projecting his way. Shame, he thought. It really was a shame that when the Decepticons attacked they hadn't killed some of the less bloody-minded of the council. Instead of merely shouting at him perhaps they would have asked him what he thought. He checked his chronometer again. Ah well they will find out soon enough.

            Buzzsaw approached Iacon stealthily. He still couldn't believe that there was so little security.

"Land down there," said a voice from underneath him. He looked down to his 'passenger' suspended between his claws.

"Where" he asked.

"You see the statue of Optimus Prime?"

"Yes"

"Next to that" 

Buzzsaw dived extremely quickly. If there were any security scanners they wouldn't be able to detect his signal long enough to be able to ascertain where he was heading, except for maybe down. He dropped his passenger next to the pedestal that the statue was stood on and landed next to him. "What are you looking for?" he asked noticing that his passenger seemed to be searching the side of the pedestal.

"When this statue was constructed the Maximals decided to build an emergency escape hatch from the underground bunker should there be a problem and they need to evacuate quickly"

"Surely there would be security systems?" asked Buzzsaw.

"Of course, however when I worked for the Predacon Tripredacus council it was often necessary to access Maximal council meetings without any interference. A young operative under my supervision found this route and we were able to decrypt the access codes. I doubt they will have been changed as I doubt that he would have told them he had found the flaw" Buzzsaw could hear some clicking and beeping sounds coming from the pedestal and then a small hatch opened.

"Excellent, the codes still work" he looked inside switching his optics to infrared. "It seems someone has beaten us here. I shall have to deal with them" he turned to Buzzsaw. "Hide, but keep your comlink open I might require your assistance later" With that he turned and ran into the dark tunnel. The hatch slid closed behind him.

            Night-stalker again checked his chronometer. They should be in position now, he thought. He looked over at the Maximal elders still deep in discussion.

"Do you still want to hear my suggestion as to how we could defeat the Decepticons?" he asked calmly.

"What?" answered one of the elders the sound of mistrust in his voice. He also seemed rather unhappy that their meeting had again been interrupted.

"Do you still want to hear my suggestion as to how we could defeat the Decepticons?" answered Night-stalker.

"Oh. I would love to hear YOUR suggestion of how to beat them," replied the elder sarcastically.

"Very well" answered Night-stalker, completely ignoring the elders' tone. "I suggest we pit our forces together under single leadership"

"And I would assume that that single leadership would mean you"

"Not at all. However if you mean that a Predacon general would be best placed to command the combined force then I would agree with you"

"Bah" scoffed the elder and turned to one of his associates. "How could we trust them? They are the direct descendants of the Decepticons. How could we trust that they wouldn't betray us to them?"

"But surely that's the point which you seem to keep missing. We are their descendants and thusly, like them, we have much more expertise in the finer art of military tactics. And unlike yours our soldiers swear an oath of loyalty to their superiors and will fight until the cause has been won. Can you say the same?"

"This is ridiculous. I can't believe we're hearing this. Can't we just get rid of him and then find a solution to this problem?"

"And what solution would that be? Send in your troops in a vainly heroic gesture to be massacred again? What you need is a commander that will act with victory as their only objective. Your commanders are too concerned that they may suffer losses. Now then the generals that I have in mind would act only to protect Cybertron no matter the cost"

"And who would you have us believe these Predacons are?"

"I don't believe that they were ever directly Predacons. However I do believe you know the names of Obsidian and Strika"

"But their dead" piped in Cheetor.

"Merely believed so," answered Night-stalker changing his gaze from the elder who had had the nerve to answer him back to the young Maximal. "However we found them and repaired them and I think you will find them quite up to the job" He turned towards the side furthest from the corridor entrance. "Please step forward" All optics turned towards where Night-stalker was watching as a single shape began to take shape. Cheetor looked at Night-stalker as the figure advanced but Night-stalker began to look very uncomfortable. He turned to look over where everyone was looking and his jaw dropped. It just wasn't possible. Cheetor felt his back stiffen as a figure he recognised emerged from the dark, weapon raised and two severed heads in his hand hanging by their cables. He couldn't speak properly but he didn't need to. He heard one of the shocked elders speak the name that was on all their minds.

"Ravage?!"


	5. Betrayal

Disclaimer: Still don't own Transformers, Hasbro et al still does. Night-stalker, Dive-bomber, Darkfire and Stormchaser however are mine and I'm very protective of them.

Any questions, queries or general comments please feel free to e-mail me.

Would also like to thank Kristina for reading an unfinished version of this chapter.

Now on with the show!

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            Ravage surveyed the room. The few remaining Maximal elders cowered to one side. The young Maximal he had met in Earth's past. His eyes fell on Night-stalker.

"I believe these are yours," he said, tossing the heads of the fallen Predacons onto the table in front of him.

Cheetor watched, as Night-stalker looked at the heads and to his surprise a wry smile appeared behind his semi-transparent faceplate and his purple optics glowed briefly.

"My information may be out of date" he looked up and smiled at Ravage, his voice remaining deadpan. "But aren't you dead?"

"Almost. Look good don't I, especially compared to your companions" Ravage motioned towards the two severed heads on the table.

"Yes, well accidents will happen"

"Yes, you always did seem to have a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time didn't you" Cheetor leaned forward behind Night-stalker.

"You know him?" he asked, the surprise clearly showing in his voice. Night-stalker turned.

"Know him?" he looked back at Ravage. "You could say that"

"Oh come now. He always was a little shy" Ravage looked down at Night-stalker and noticed that his smile had changed to a scowl. He merely smiled back. "He knows much more than just know me. He was to be my protégé. So who did you upset to get this assignment? I taught you to be much more than a measly politician"

"Well what can I say?" Night-stalker again smiled at Ravage. "Bad teaching?"

"Well that's one problem I can now deal with. Sadly for you I know that you could become a problem. Goodbye Night-stalker" Ravage raised his weapon and pointed it at Night-stalkers chest.

            Buzzsaw sat on a ledge high up on Iacon's dome. He was looking out over the local area. There wasn't all that much happening really considering they had just had a large number of the population massacred. There were just a few Maximals who seemed to be wandering aimlessly around doing nothing special. One or two hurrying in and out of Iacon delivering messages of some kind he supposed. And a small group of Predacons entering the passageway to the underground Council Chamber. Buzzsaw quickly sized up the situation and activated his communicator to warn Ravage.

            What a way for it all to end, thought Night-stalker. All his scheming and planning to be killed by one of the only transformers that he had ever trusted. The one who had taught him his profession, one until this moment he thought was dead. Poetic justice really, killed by a corpse. Before Ravage fired however his communicator bleeped and a very concerned sounding voice came out of the speaker.

"Ravage, this is Buzzsaw answer" Ravage stepped back to answer his comm. Sadly for him his communicator was on the arm that he was using to hold his weapon.

"Ravage, go ahead"

"You've got company headed your way, approximately four Predacons. There's another three on guard out here. I'll deal with them, but watch your back" As Ravage deactivated his comm. He was sent reeling backwards by a stiff kick to his chest. As he looked up he saw Night-stalker leap out of his seat and dive into the shadows. Ravage recovered quickly and fired in the direction that Night-stalker had disappeared in. Slag he thought.

            Buzzsaw leaped from his perch and checking he wasn't being watched dove at the three Predacons. To late one of them looked up in time to be incinerated by a blast from Buzzsaws twin mortar cannons, his companions being blasted backwards crashing heavily to the ground. Buzzsaw landed on top of one and kicked his weapon out of reach. He then grabbed the other within his beak and punctured its chassis. It cried out in pain and shock before collapsing, energon flowing from its wounds. Buzzsaw then bit into the one struggling under his claws and began pulling cables from its chest like a vulture tearing apart carrion. After he had confirmed the kill he moved towards the plinth. He looked around to be sure no one was watching and using his beak typed in the code to open the passage. The doorway silently slid open. Buzzsaw looked down the passage, the heat signatures of the Predacons still registered. Good, he thought. Tucking his wings in as close to his body as he could he carefully walked into the passage and began following the Predacons. Behind him the hatch slid silently closed.

            Ravage was looking into the shadows, his vision changed to infrared. He had to keep an eye on the Maximals, find Night-stalker and be careful, as there was a small group of Predacon troops headed his way. All in all a pretty normal day. A familiar voice rung out from the shadows, though Ravage was unable to tell from which direction it came.

"I can see you, can you see me?" asked Night-stalker, his enjoyment clearly audible.

"Show yourself and fight like the warrior you pertain to be" answered Ravage.

"But I don't pertain to be anything" replied Night-stalker, then with a slightly mocking tone. "Except maybe a measly politician"

Ravage scowled then trained his weapon on the Maximal Elders.

"Show yourself or I blow them to pieces" he knew that this was a desperate move but needed to at least try something to find Night-stalker.

"Would you? Please do. It would make my job so much easier"

Suddenly there was a massive explosion from the direction of the emergency escape tunnel, followed by the sound of rapid laser fire. As Ravage looked towards the sound he noticed a slight ripple in the shadows. Without thinking he fired. He heard a muffled shout and what sounded like metal hitting the ground. He knew that he had missed his target but that it had now fallen. He brought his weapon to bear directly onto where he thought his target was but before he could fire he was knocked to the ground from behind. Looking up he saw the young Maximal he recognised from Earth in Beast mode pinning him to the ground.

"What the slag's wrong with you" Cheetor shouted at the shocked looking Elders. "Don't you recognise an escape attempt when you see one?" With that they all leapt to their feet and began running towards the main entrance corridor. Cheetor was about to jump off Ravage and run in the same direction when a massive explosion ripped through one side of the room and blew Cheetor backwards. He fell heavily to the ground and as he looked up he saw a large gold and black coloured metallic condor step into the room. Cheetor dove towards the entrance corridor as he saw the door start to slide shut. He passed two elders but another explosion knocked them to the ground. He fell through the door just before it closed and watched on in horror as it trapped the two elders in the room with the two Decepticons. As Cheetor looked towards the control panel he saw a rippling effect and moments later a recognisable shape appeared. Night-stalker turned and marched towards the lift.

"If any of you want to leave here before those two break through those doors I'd follow me now" he said over his shoulder as he stepped into the lift.

            Buzzsaw looked down at Ravage.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Fine" Ravage answered. He got up and looked over at the closed doors and then at the two fallen Maximals. "Are they still functioning?" he asked. Buzzsaw looked at them.

"They'll survive, for now"

"Good. How do feel about a little interrogation" Buzzsaw just smiled and moved menacingly towards the fallen Maximals.

            For a long while no one in the lift spoke. It was very cramped with the seven remaining elders Night-stalker and Cheetor all squeezed into the confined space. Cheetor turned towards Night-stalker, a scowl clearly visible on his face.

"You left them in there to die" Cheetor finally said to Night-stalker, the sorrow unmistakeable in his voice. Night-stalker didn't even flinch but merely continued staring forward as if in a trance. "Couldn't we have done anything?" he asked looking around. The elders merely stood still heads hanging towards the ground. Cheetor knew the answer to his question was a no but couldn't help but voice his feelings of loss. In less than a few megacycles nearly the entire Maximal Elders council had been wiped out, not to mention the hundreds of other Maximals and Predacons who had been killed in the first assault by the Decepticons. Silence again fell on the occupants of the lift until Night-stalker, without turning to look at the elders asked,

"So, will you give control of the Maximal forces to Predacon Generals?"

"But your two best Generals, and probably the only two that we would trust, have been killed. We all saw their heads" came the reply from one of the Elders. There was a murmur of agreement from the other Elders.

"In which case you will be happy to learn that the two heads that you saw on the table were not those of Obsidian or Strika rather they were merely two unlucky individuals that had been chosen to play their parts, we couldn't risk anything happening to the real Obsidian or Strika now could we"

"So you expected an attack?" asked Cheetor, his calm tone belying his feelings. Though spending so much time with Night-stalker recently, and knowing he would do almost anything to get his way, but to risk a possible attack from the Decepticons just to get what he wanted seemed even to reckless for Night-stalker.

"I expected that something could go wrong, but not what happened" Cheetor noticed that those last few words began to sound quite wistful as if Night-stalker was still in deep thought about what had happened in the chamber.

            Night-stalker was in fact very concerned. Ravage and what looked to be either Laserbeak or Buzzsaw had been able to get into the Council Chamber, without Dive-bomber alerting him. Surely not even he was so foolish as to miss them. Also, though it had been his idea for Obsidian and Strika to be replaced by doubles in case something should happen, he had not been prepared to come face to face with Ravage. Ravage, now that was a name he wasn't expecting to hear very often again. He knew the identities of nearly all of the Decepticons who were on the planet but why wasn't he informed that Ravage was here? And, more worryingly for himself, he had the chance to kill him as he stood before him but instead merely made his own escape. Could he kill him? That thought concerned him more than he would ever let anybody know. Why did he waver? He also still had the problem that the Elders were still being stubborn even though they must know that using Obsidian and Strika would be the best choice for leading a joint Predacon Maximal force. They have no direct loyalty to either side just to Cybertron itself. Of course they would be given assistance by Predacon generals but then that to should be obvious. Predacons in their nature were better soldiers than Maximals, despite Maximal efforts to stop any form of Predacon military build-up. They would be quite surprised with what they were going to see.

"Very well" Night-stalker was jogged out of his thoughts by one of the Elders. He turned to see which one of them was speaking to him. Before him he saw Stormchaser, the Elder who had been the most vehement opponent to Night-stalker, tall almost muscular in appearance his bright red and silver chassis starting to show the rigour of age but his mind was still extremely sharp. "We agree that Obsidian and Strika be given primary control over our forces"

"Primary control?"

"Yes. We want there to be at least two Maximal Commanders present during the planning and assault stages" Night-stalker looked to be considering the Elders deal but really had expected nothing less.

"Agreed, as long as there are the same number of Predacon Commanders involved" Stormchaser was about to argue until someone behind him said,

"Agreed" Looking deflated Stormchaser's shoulders slumped and he nodded in acquiescence.

"Excellent. As soon as we get out of this lift we shall prepare"

            "I think this ones starting to wake up" Buzzsaw said nudging one of the Maximals slumped in the corner of the room.

"All the worse for him" replied Ravage. "How's the other one?" Buzzsaw kicked the other Elder square in the chest, a slight moan emanating from its vocaliser.

"Should be conscious soon"

"Good, it'll be much easier to move them if they can walk themselves rather than attempting to carry them"

"Why move them at all, surely we could gain any information we want from them easily in here, kill them and be gone before any enemy forces could get here in large enough numbers to harm us"

"Perhaps, but if for any reason they are able to get here quickly then we're sitting cyber-ducks" Ravage moved towards the slowly recovering Elder and hoisted him to his feet. "Pick that one up," he said turning to Buzzsaw. As commanded Buzzsaw grabbed the Elder in his beak and started to move towards the emergency passageway.

"Won't they be expecting us to come out this way" asked Buzzsaw, his voice muffled due to the Elder in his beak.

"Perhaps, but then would you prefer to leave via the direct route through Iacon?" Buzzsaw grinned considering the damage he could do released inside Iacon, but eventually agreed with Ravage. He again folded his wings and led the stumbling Elder, and Ravage bringing up the rear, through the passage.

            Their progress was extremely slow. If Shockwave didn't know better he would think that this organic substance was actually attempting to block their path on purpose. Ahead of him he could see Blitzwing and Motormaster slicing their way through the organic strands. As they tried to delve deeper into the passage, and thusly through the depths of Cybertron, the organic growth appeared to be getting thicker and their progress getting slower. Behind him he could still hear Galvatron spitting curses vehemently at him and the other Decepticons. Soon he would be restored, or destroyed, whichever became the most logical choice when they reached their destination. Shockwave was beginning to feel uncomfortable though. Though they were now quite deep within Cybertron, and they had left the Combaticons on guard at the tunnel entrance, they were losing space around them with the amount of growth that this organic life took up down here. If they were to be attacked by the Predacons or Maximals there would be very little room for them to manoeuvre in, not that he was entirely worried about the strength of an individual Maximal or Predacon, however if there were enough of them the Decepticons greater size and mass would limit their manoeuvrability and could place them at a distinct tactical disadvantage. He turned to Scrapper.

"You and the other Constructicons remain here to make sure that we are not being followed. We will inform you when we reach our destination"

"As you command Shockwave," replied Scrapper as he and the other Constructicons fell to the back of the group. Shockwave turned to continue but still felt as if there was someone or something watching him, even though he knew that it was illogical.

            Dive-bomber sat in the command chair, his mind wrapped in internal turmoil. On the one hand he had performed his duty to the Predacon Council flawlessly, allowing the Decepticons clear and easy access to the Maximal Council chamber via the passageway. On the other, however, he was wrapped in guilt for not warning Night-stalker that they were coming. He had attempted to warn him of the danger by sending down a small recon team after Ravage had already gone down. He had hoped that they would reach Night-stalker quickly enough so that he would be able to escape the probable torture and execution that would have occurred down there. Sadly he had forgotten about the second Decepticon and they had lost contact with the whole group shortly afterwards. There were two possibilities running through his mind. One, the Decepticons had killed all the Council members and Night-stalker and would soon return to the surface victorious, at which point he was to let them leave and report back to the Predacon Council. Two, Night-stalker had somehow survived, probably by using the experimental personal cloak that he and Dive-bomber (and a few other Predacons) had been fitted with. Either way Dive-bomber knew he was going to have problems. If Night-stalker were dead then he would probably lose the respect and control of the troops on this ship. They had all been handpicked by Night-stalker and were extremely loyal, some fanatically so, so would not react well to the knowledge of his destruction. If he survived he would be less than impressed with Dive-bomber for not warning him of the impending danger, and to the fact that Ravage was even down here. Dive-bomber himself was extremely loyal to Night-stalker; hence his position in the ships pecking order, but had felt unable to disobey a direct order from the Predacon Council even though it set him directly at odds with his own morality circuits. What ever happened he knew he was in trouble.

"Sir" Dive-bomber looked blankly in the direction of the voice, attempting to regain his composure.

"What" he snapped.

"We have detected the two Decepticon signatures leaving through the emergency escape tunnel. It seems that they have two Maximals with them. What are your orders?"

"Show me," he barked, attempting to put some strength into his voice, but merely sounding as lost as he was feeling. He looked towards the viewer as the image zoomed in onto where Buzzsaw and Ravage had left the tunnel and were attempting to keep control of the now fully conscious Maximal Elders.

"If we act now we can stop their escape" Dive-bomber paused, again considering the orders that he had been given from the Predacon Council.

"Let them go" he ordered.

"Sir?"

"You heard my orders! Let them go"

"Yes Sir" came the reply. So it starts, thought Dive-bomber. They weren't even trying to hide from their voices that they disagreed with him. On the viewer he watched as Ravage climbed onto the back of the larger, bird-like Decepticon as it grabbed the two Maximal Elders roughly in its claws and flew off into the distance. "Sir"

"What" he snapped, this 'tech was beginning to annoy him.

"The Commander has ordered us to collect him and some Maximal dignitaries from Iacon, should I inform him about the Decepticons leaving the area?"

"_NO"_ cried Dive-bomber, he really didn't need any more complications.

"As you command" replied the 'tech. Dive-bomber knew full well that he would. He was already dreading having to explain his actions to Night-stalker, and the 'tech would no doubt leave nothing out of his report in order to ingratiate himself with his commander. Slag it.

            The lift door opened and Night-stalker marched into the Command Centre. Dive-bomber looked over at him. He could clearly see by looking into the optics of his friend that he was very unhappy, though anyone who didn't know him wouldn't even notice a change in his general demeanour.

"Would someone please escort the Maximal Elders and Cheetor to some quarters in order to allow them to 'freshen up'" he commanded. Dive-bomber began moving towards the lift. "_Not you_" Night-stalker snapped, his purple optics boring through Dive-bomber. He turned towards one of the other Predacons at a console. "You" he ordered. He then turned to the Elders, who had remained in the lift and said graciously "If you would leave the names of the Maximal Commanders that you would like to assist with the assault with the orderly then they will be collected" He then turned to another Predacon "Set course for station Omega" The Predacon inputted the commands into the console and the ship could be felt to move. The lift doors closed as the orderly entered it. Immediately Night-stalker turned on Dive-bomber. "My office NOW" and he turned towards a door at the back of the Command Centre. Dive-bomber mentally gulped and followed his commander through the doors and into the office.

            The door slid quietly closed behind Dive-bomber. Before him he saw Night-stalker leaning back in a chair behind a small quarter circle shaped desk. He could see Night-stalker studying him, his eyes seemingly penetrating his very spark. And that smile, he dreaded seeing that smile. He remembered the last time he had seen that smile, the two of them lying in wait for the Maximal security agent who had gained too much information on the Predacon military build-up and the Predacon traitor who had been his informant inside the Predacon military. They had both underestimated how good the Predacon Intelligence Agency was. Night-stalker had that same smile when he had punctured the Maximals spark and, somehow considering the damage that was done, made it look like an accident, and as for the traitor. Dive-bomber shuddered when he thought about what had happened to him. That was only about a Decacycle ago. Now he was being scrutinised by those same cold eyes and most likely being judged a traitor. Again Dive-bomber shuddered. He looked at Night-stalker and as he did so he saw his optics look directly into his own.

"I'm feeling betrayed Dive-bomber" began Night-stalker. "Yes, betrayed and hurt. You wouldn't want to hurt me now would you Dive-bomber?" Night-stalker looked questioningly at Dive-bomber his head tilted to one side. Night-stalker continued, his voice still soft, and yet also seemingly so cold. "You wouldn't do anything that might hurt me or disappoint me would you Dive-bomber? You wouldn't knowingly allow a few Decepticons to have complete access to the Maximal Elders Council with the knowledge that you had comrades down there, would you Dive-bomber? And you certainly wouldn't allow those same Decepticons to escape from right below you without even attempting to stop them would you? No you wouldn't do such a foolish thing. You who has been my most trusted aid, and friend for all these many Stellarcycles. No you wouldn't do such a thing, would you?" By this time Night-stalker had got up from his seat, walked around his desk and was stood with his arm around Dive-bombers shoulders.

"I had orders" Dive-bomber began, his voice uncharacteristically shaky.

"Orders from whom?" asked Night-stalker quizzically, his voice soft and quiet near Dive-bombers audios.

"My orders came from the Predacon Council"

"You see this isn't so difficult after all. Now, tell me exactly what those orders were and who gave you them" Dive-bomber stumbled through his answer. He wanted to tell Night-stalker everything. He wanted to show that he was no traitor, that he could still be trusted. That he was still his friend.

"My orders were that if any Decepticons were to make an appearance I was not to hinder them in any form, whether they were headed into or out of the area. If they attempted to enter Iacon or the escape corridor I was to allow them complete access without hindrance. Any and all Predacon or Maximal lives were an irrelevance. I was to maintain complete radio silence with you or any other Predacon troops in the area. The hope was that the Decepticons would destroy the Maximal Elders and allow the Predacon Council an easy position to take control of Maximal troops and place them in a position to take control of the planet after the Decepticon problem had been dealt with. What was I to do? It was a direct order from the Council" Night-stalker smiled,

"And I also know that you broke those orders and sent down a few troops into the escape hatch, slightly foolish but it did save my life" Night-stalkers smile had changed to being much friendlier. Dive-bomber wasn't sure whether he should be happy or even more scared than before. "But you haven't yet told me who in the Council gave you those orders. Please, enlighten me"

"Honestly, I don't know who gave me the orders" again Dive-bomber was beginning to become more frightened; he knew this wasn't the answer that Night-stalker wanted. "The orders were encoded through the communications system and passed through to me" Again Night-stalker grinned, almost laughed.

"I know. I've been informed of everything that's happened since I went into Iacon. However there is one pressing piece of business" his smile faded abruptly and his face became dark. He moved towards a communications panel on the wall and punched it. "Would Darkfire please report to my office immediately" Again that evil smile appeared beneath Night-stalkers faceplate and his purple optics momentarily glowed. The office door opened and Darkfire stepped into the room. Dive-bomber hated him. He knew he had been after his position as second under Night-stalker since he came on board. He was as tall as Night-stalker, but much more slender than both Night-stalker and Dive-bomber. His chassis colour of black and white suited his personality well, thought Dive-bomber. Night-stalker moved towards him, smiling as he did so. He ushered Darkfire through the entrance, the doors sliding shut behind him. Night-stalker turned towards Dive-bomber and placed his arm again over his shoulders.

"You see" he began. "It was Darkfire here who informed me of exactly what happened up here" he outstretched his arm and placed the back of his hand against Darkfires chest. "It was he who told me that you had received a secret communiqué from the Predacon Council. It was also him who reported that you had been told to leave me down there and that you were going to obey those orders to the letter" Dive-bomber noticed Night-stalkers fist clench and less than a nano-klic later heard a quiet whoosh sound and Darkfires entire body tensed, his face wrapped in pain. "But what he accidentally let slip was that it was he who had been receiving and relying secret messages to the Predacon Council every time I communicated a report. You see my dear Dive-bomber we've both been sent on a little ride by the Council in order to try and get rid of us both, and the Maximal Council. You are not the traitor dear friend, merely a fool. This piece of flotsam is the traitor" Dive-bomber looked at Darkfire as Night-stalker slowly withdrew his arm from Darkfires chest. From Night-stalkers wrist protruded a large serrated metal spike about 12inches long that was retracting into his arm. Dive-bomber stared at Darkfires chest. Inside he could see his spark, a hole cut clean through it. Darkfire collapsed onto his knees looking up at Night-stalker. Night-stalker placed the back of hand against the side of Darkfires head. Leaning close to his audios Night-stalker whispered, "tell me who's been giving you orders and I might let you die quickly" Darkfire smiled, his face still struggling against the pain as his systems slowly shutdown.

"I don't know, but the Council know about your and the Intelligence Agencies attempts to usurp power from the Predacon authorities"

"You don't understand, we ARE the Predacon authorities," replied Night-stalker. Again the whoosh sound and Dive-bomber watched as the spike again shot out of Night-stalkers arm, slicing clean through Darkfires head. His eyes brightened briefly and after a few sparks dimmed. Night-stalker retracted the spike and began walking towards the exit as Darkfires body collapsed on the floor. He stopped in front of the door before it opened and said casually over his shoulder "I've got a report to send, as no doubt you do to" He stepped forward and the door slid open. Before leaving, as if just as an after thought he turned to Dive-bomber and said "get someone to clean that up would you" He walked off before Dive-bomber could answer leaving him in the room alone with Darkfires body, the message was clear.


	6. Decepticon destination

Disclaimer: Hasbro et al still haven't given me a percentage shareholding of Transformer so, sadly, I still don't own them. Night-stalker, Dive-bomber blah, blah, blah are mine yadda, yadda, yadda.

This chapter sees the return of some favourite characters, as well as me having to add others in order to move the story along.

Some things within this story are not seen as 'true' Transformer history, but I've put them in as for me it explains differences between Beast Wars and G1.

Questions, queries, comments please feel free to e-mail me and please read, enjoy and review.

Now, lets get started!

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            "The Maximal Elders have agreed to give control of their forces to Obsidian and Strika, however they are to have two of their force Commanders present throughout the planning and attack stages" Night-stalker stood on the glowing dais in the centre of the darkened communications room looking up at the large holographic head of his contact within the Predacon Intelligence Agency giving his report. "Also, as we predicted the Council has used the Decepticon situation to attempt to increase its power base within Cybertron. They have attempted to have both myself and the Maximal Council killed using the Decepticons. I have been able to deal with their informant on board my ship however how much information he may have passed on to them about our operating procedures are currently unknown"

"Very well" said the head. "However, we were unprepared for such a rash move from the Council this soon. It appears we may have to deal with a certain new member quickly"

"New member?" asked Night-stalker inquisitively. Generally new members of the Predacon Council were vetted by the Intelligence Agency and the information passed around to all senior officials.

"Yes. Little is known of who this Transformer is. He seemed to appear approximately two decacycles ago and immediately joined the Council"

"What is his name?"

"Starstrike" Night-stalker checked his databank. Predacons who take up positions on the Council were normally fairly well known, even though this one had seemingly got through the standard vetting procedure, however he found that he had no knowledge of this individual.

"What do we know of him?"

"As I said, very little. As soon as he appeared he somehow got onto the Predacon Council. Since then he appears to be the driving force behind almost every decision the Council make. The problem for us is the more decisions that they make, the more difficult it becomes to actually control the Predacon population"

"Why haven't we disposed of him yet? Surely we could make it seem accidental. I can have a team ready in less than three megacycles"

"Sadly for us he appears to be ready for any such intrusions into his affairs. He has made many allies throughout the military and though they may, for the most part, be quite foolish they do have more resources than we do. But do not concern yourself, we have him under surveillance if he makes a mistake he will be dealt with. For now you are to continue with your assignment. Have you sent the request for the Maximal commanders to join you?"

"They should join us at the station"

"Excellent"

"One more thing, do we have any information on the Decepticons?"

"They are under surveillance"

"My I ask by whom?"

"The information will be sent in the data stream. This communication ends"

The holographic head disappeared as the lights of the room brightened and resumed their original intensity. Night-stalker inputted a small disc into the computer console in front of him. A few nano-klics later the disc ejected. He removed it from the console and started walking towards the exit. As he did so he inserted the disc into the small reader in his chest. As the information downloaded into his central processor he smirked. Could they seriously have sent _him_ to watch the Decepticons? He was definitely small enough but he had a habit of talking to himself, not a good thing for an undercover operative to do. He walked out of the room and headed towards the control centre.

            When he had joined the Predacon Intelligence Agency he was guaranteed that it would lead him to power and greatness. They had even promised to rebuild his body. But now here he was, stuck on the back of a huge, hulking, gas-guzzling Decepticon with his vocaliser deactivated and feeling what could only be compared to sea sickness as this great hulking brute bounced up and down as he walked. Oh woe is me, I who should be in control of everything. Poor me, poor poor me. Poor Waspinator. He knew he should really be listening to the Decepticons around him but he really didn't want to. He didn't want this stupid assignment; he didn't want to be stuck here listening to what he was told was Galvatron, screaming at the others. So this was the vaunted Decepticon army that the Predacon history records talked about, the one that Megatron had gone on so much about. He could have done a better job of commanding them; at least he could if he had had a better body instead of this technorganic mini-fly he was now. Again he slipped into feeling sorry for himself. If it weren't for the small recording, and tracking, device that the Agency had attached to him they would never receive a report worth getting. All he had to do was sit there, how boring. He would show them, he would show everyone. He would become ruler of Cybertron and he was sure that wherever he was going attached to the back of this Decepticon would bring him great power, ooh yes, great power indeed.

            Again the Decepticons had stopped moving forwards whilst they waited for Blitzwing and Motormaster to cut down the organic growth ahead of them. Shockwave looked on impassively as Blitzwing turned to him.

"I don't think we're gonna be able to cut our way through here, its just too thick"

"Very well" replied Shockwave. He activated his communicator "Shockwave to Mixmaster" after a few moments the tinny voice of Mixmaster came over Shockwave's comm system.

"Mixmaster here, go ahead"

"Report to me at once, I have use for your expertise"

"On my way" came the reply. From behind where Shockwave and the other Decepticons stood could be heard a vehicle engine start up in the distance.

            "I still don't agree with giving any form of control to the Predacons. How can we be sure we can trust them? They're probably waiting behind that door to kill us all and try and make a deal with the Decepticons, they are their descendants" Stormchaser stormed up and down the small quarters that the Maximals had been led to by the Predacon orderly. Before him the remaining Maximal Elders and Cheetor sat on small 'stools', the three purely mechanical Elders plugged into recharging conduits.

"Would you just sit down and stop complaining. They haven't harmed us yet, what makes you so sure that they will? Anyway we need their help if we're going to have any way of getting the Decepticons off Cybertron" said one of the seated Elders.

"Humph" snorted Stormchaser. "All we need them for is getting ourselves killed, I would have thought that you of all 'bots would have agreed with me," he said pointing an accusing finger at Cheetor.

"As far as I've seen so far they haven't tried anything against us, though I would recommend caution especially when dealing with Night-stalker. He doesn't seem to have led us astray yet but I don't entirely trust him"

"Entirely trust him" retorted Stormchaser. "I don't at all trust him. He's a scheming piece of Predacon slag and we should never have accepted him as their representative"

"We didn't have much of a choice over who they recommended for their own representative on the Council" said one of the seated Elders. "We couldn't exactly have told them no now could we? We are trying to improve relations between the Predacons and ourselves. Perhaps if we work together on this mission to deal with the Decepticons then we can at last look forward to peace and cooperation between us all"

"You're a fool," snapped Stormchaser. "Remember what happened last time we started to reduce security? Megatron and his cronies stole the Golden Discs and the Darkside. Its 'bots like you that make it to easy for them and the only way they'll change my mind is if they prove they can be trusted which, as yet, they haven't done"

            "Why do we still allow them to say such things about us? They're on our ship after all" Dive-bomber turned from the monitor showing the Maximals arguing in their room to look at Night-stalker who was seated next him. They were in Night-stalkers office, all traces of Darkfires body had been removed and it seemed to Dive-bomber that it had almost never happened.

"Politics my friend" came Night-stalkers cool reply. "If we allow them to say exactly what they think of us without interruption then we know our enemy much better than we would if we stopped them"

"But its because of us that they are still alive" said Dive-bomber, he was starting to feel exasperated. He never liked politics and, to be honest, didn't really like the stuck-up nature of the Maximals. "We have to prove ourselves to them? It's disgraceful. We have nothing to prove. We aren't the ones who act high and mighty and then force an entire section of the community to live as nothing more than slaves as the Maximals strut around looking down upon us like we're pieces of dirt on the bottom of their feet" Night-stalker just smiled. He knew that if the roles between the Predacons and Maximals had been reversed that things would be similar than they were now except for one great difference, the Maximals probably wouldn't exist as a culture. He continued to smile at this little thought until he was abruptly brought back to reality by Dive-bomber's continual complaints.

"By the Pit, they're blaming us all now for that traitor Megatron" cried Dive-bomber who had now begun pacing back and forth in front of the desk. "Haven't they got over that yet?"

"Obviously not" Night-stalker calmly replied. If looks could kill Night-stalker knew he would dead now as he looked into Dive-bomber's optics, he just smiled back. A flashing light on Night-stalkers desk interrupted the tense silence that had descended upon the room. Night-stalker leant over and pressed a button on the small console in front of him and a tinny voice came out of a hidden speaker.

"We're approaching station Omega, we should be docked in approximately 5 cycles"

"Have the Maximal Commanders arrived at the station?"

"They have just docked and will meet you and the Elders in the planning room"

"Very well" answered Night-stalker and deactivated the comm. "Well, do you want to join me in interrupting their little conversation" Night-stalker asked looking over at Dive-bomber.

"Gladly"

            Onslaught watched as Buzzsaw was intercepted by Blastoff as he approached his position. He and the other Combaticons had been left on guard duty outside of the tunnel that the other Decepticons had delved into and since then nothing had really happened. As he watched Buzzsaw approach he could see that he was clearly holding something in his claws. Finally, he thought, we might actually have something to do. The most they had been doing was shooting down unmanned spy craft, not exactly a relishing challenge. Buzzsaw dropped his 'cargo' in front of Onslaught and landed allowing Ravage to climb off his back as Blastoff transformed back to robot mode. Onslaught looked down at the two Maximal Elders. One was clearly partially organic, with techno matter used throughout his body; the other seemed to be a norm. Brawl, who was stood next to Onslaught looked at the elders, then turned his attention to Buzzsaw.

"What'd you bring these back for?" he asked motioning towards the Maximals. "Why didn't you just annihilate them?"

"Please Brawl" said Blastoff as he stepped towards the smaller Transformers. "Wouldn't it seem the prudent thing to interrogate them first?" Swindle grabbed the Technorganic Elder and hoisted him into the air.

"Tell us everything we want to know, or I let Brawl here have his way with you"

"You need to ask him a question first," sighed Blastoff. "Anyway it would be much better to allow someone with at least a little interrogation experience handle this" Swindle threw the Elder to the ground as Vortex advanced menacingly towards the two Maximals.

"What do you want with us?" asked the purely technological Elder.

"Isn't it obvious?" scoffed the other Elder. "They mean to kill us"

"No, we want information. We're a bit behind the times," replied Buzzsaw.

"Then maybe we'll kill 'em," laughed Brawl.

            Night-stalker and Dive-bomber stood outside the door to the Maximal quarters. They could hear the raised voices of a heated discussion, though they couldn't make out exactly what was being said. Night-stalker smiled and pressed the panel next to the door and the door slid open.

"Don't you know how to knock?" snapped Stormchaser turning towards the two Predacons stepping into the room.

"Yes"-answered Night-stalker. He smiled at the Maximal Elder and said graciously "I just thought that you might like to know that we have arrived at our destination and that you're army Commanders are awaiting our presence on the station"

"Its about time" said Stormchaser and began to move towards the open door. He turned back to the other Elders "You coming then or are we just going to let these Predacons make all the decisions for us?" he snapped. Night-stalker raised his hand to stop Dive-bomber saying something that he shouldn't, smiled and graciously motioned for the Maximals to precede them out of the open door.

            Vortex landed and transformed back into his robot mode, dumping the technorganic Maximal on the ground.

"Now then are you going to answer my question about Maximal and Predacon force sizes or do I take you for another 'spin'?" The Maximal laid on the floor a crumpled wreck. The other Elder moved over to him, checked him briefly and turned to the Decepticons hate clearly showing in his optics.

"What by Primus is your problem?! Your old, out of date, worth only scrap, deal with it. Don't you have any feelings within your withered sparks?" The Decepticons stopped, a puzzled expression on each of their faces. Swindle looked at the Elder and broke the silence.

"What's a spark?" It was now the Elders turn to look puzzled.

"What sort of question is that?"

"One that if you don't answer I'll blow your stink'n body apart" Brawl replied.

"Well, basically its you. It's your life essence. Surely you know this"

"Don't you tell us what we know or what we don't" snapped Brawl. He turned to Onslaught "So what's a spark?"

"I don't know. Life essence indeed." Scoffed Onslaught. He looked down at the Maximal. "My 'life' is contained within my personality component not some 'spark' so why don't you stop wasting our time and tell us the truth before I let Brawl here crush the life out of you, however you believe it to be held"

"But…but" stammered the Elder. "We're all linked to the Matrix through our sparks"

"Linked to the Matrix?" laughed Swindle. "Now that's a new one. You might be you are a descendant of an Autobot but I'm definitely not 'one with the Matrix' or any of that mumbo jumbo"

"If he's got a spark I say he shows us or we rip it out of him" shouted Brawl.

"He's right he has got a spark" The Decepticons turned to look at the voice. Ravage just stared impassively up at them. The Combaticons had all forgotten that he was even there, they weren't used to such small beings. "He has a spark, as do all Maximals and Predacons," continued Ravage. "You and I however don't"

"Impossible" cried the Elder. "How could you function without one?"

"Simple" replied Ravage. "We have a personality component upon which all our actions are based. You have a spark which is a modified component introduced by the Autobot Maximal alliance after the final battle. This component allowed the recreation and restoration of the Matrix after all of its knowledge was lost after the hate plague incident. With all future Transformers linked to the Matrix it meant that their knowledge would be able to be accessed by the next generation"

"Really" said the Elder mockingly. "So how do you come to have this knowledge?"

"Simple, unlike the rest of you I am a first generation reconstruction. I am _not_ nor ever have been a Predacon. My program was altered to repress certain memories but with a little help I was able to recover them"

"So why don't I know any of this?" asked the Elder doubtfully.

"Why should you? Elder you might be, but how old are you? I would guarantee younger than me. I'm sure it's written down on some record somewhere, some record that's been deemed to harmful for society. Nobody will read it. Nobody will question why anything happens it just does and you Elders have become too lazy you don't even bother to read your own records"

"Sounds like Predacon rhetoric to me" scoffed the Elder. Ravage leapt forward knocking the Elder to the ground.

"Perhaps your friend here would be more cooperative if he saw what will happen if he's not helpful. Brawl, you wanted to see what a spark looks like? It looks like this" Ravage pinned the Maximal to the ground and began to tear chunks of his armour to pieces.

            The lift door slid open revealing the planning room for the coming battle. Night-stalker, Dive-bomber, Cheetor and the Maximal Elders all stepped out of the lift. Night-stalker surveyed the room. Before them they could see a large table with holographic maps of the area, showing the remains of what was once Mechacity and the approximated positions of the Decepticons. Surrounding these were holographic images of Maximal and Predacon forces of all types ranging from ariel landing craft to ground based artillery howitzers. To the right of the table stood the Maximal commanders, the left the Predacon Generals. The Predacon Generals, Night-stalker knew, had both been chosen not so much for their tactical brilliance but for their loathing of the Maximals. The Predacon Council had decided that if they chose them than they would be sure that the operation would not be carried and completed with Predacon percentage loses higher than those of the Maximals. The Maximals, of course, were chosen again not because of their excellent strategic planning, though they believed they were the best no doubt, but because of their brilliant use of political power. Their armour showed their pomposity, with bright reds and silvers. That would make them really difficult to see on the battlefield, typical Maximal self-delusion thought Night-stalker. He also noted that though the Maximals held that subdivision of the races was wrong, and that choices would never be made on that account that their were no technorganics present on either side, save the few Elders. Both groups seemed to be arguing over some tactical procedure that, no doubt, neither understood completely. At the far end of the table, ignoring both groups, stood Obsidian and Strika. Night-stalker noticed Cheetor visibly shudder when he saw the two of them stood there. 

            Cheetor left the lift and looked round the room. His optics first fell on the table and he felt a twinge of sorrow when he saw the holographic remains of Mechacity, the shattered remnants of the once great dome still visible. He looked at the two Predacon Generals to the left of the table. They looked sinister in appearance. Their armour coloured dark blue and purple, and their sharp angular features made them look quite foreboding. Typical Predacons, Cheetor thought. He then looked at the Maximals. They looked much more like how Cheetor expected military commanders to look. They were tall and almost regal looking, though their apparent lack of ability to discuss things amicably with the Predacons did worry Cheetor a little. They were definitely chosen by Stormchaser. He then looked to the far end of the table and he visibly shuddered, feelings of dread he had wished to forget came flooding back to him. Before him stood Obsidian and Strika, looking almost exactly as he remembered them in their Vehicon forms. The memories made him immediately realise that he had not, as yet, contacted any of his friends. He didn't even know whether they were still alive or whether they had been caught in the Decepticon attack. He looked round the room quickly and saw an unmanned computer console. Luckily for him it was near the lift, however getting to it without anyone noticing would be hard enough but then when he did the computer would no doubt have security lockouts. He wished Rattrap were here. A pain in the diode he might be but he could crack almost any computer code with ease. He watched as the rest of the group headed further into the room, as they did he slowly began edging towards the computer.

            "Well now we're here we can begin" started Stormchaser walking over to the end of the table. The Predacons and Maximals at the table stopped arguing and turned to the newcomers.

"And what makes you think we would have waited for you to arrive before beginning the plans for this operation?" scoffed one of the Predacon Generals. "After all its not as if you're going to be involved in this in any way"

"Show more respect for the Elders" snapped the Maximal Commander closest to Stormchaser, his bright blue optics glowing brightly. The Predacon merely sneered in the direction of the Maximals, then turned away and began speaking conspiratorially with his comrade. The Maximal Commander turned to Stormchaser and the other elders and saluted.

"General Lightfire at your command, and this is Air-Commander Nightflight" Nightflight bowed his head briefly. "We are almost prepared for the final assault though we are having some difficulties with the a few intricacies"

"For example?" asked Stormchaser.

"For example they want the Predacons to move in and attack first," snapped the Predacon General looking up from his own conversation. "That way we soften up the Decepticons and take the highest losses allowing you the easier task of attacking a weakened enemy and provides you with increased strength after this little problem is dealt with for the subjugation of the Predacon people" Stormchaser turned to the Predacon.

"And you are?" he asked sternly. Typical Predacon can't even allow a private discussion to occur without attempting to get involved.

"Who _I_ am is none of _your_ business. Suffice to say that _I_ will not allow _my_ troops to be deployed in such a way that mass casualties are unavoidable"

"But mass casualties are unavoidable" said Obsidian looking up from a small data pad he held. "This is war. If you expect that casualties will be low then you are very much mistaken. This will be a difficult campaign fought against one of the strongest enemies we have ever dealt with but, with a little cooperation from both sides, we should triumph"

"So you do believe that we can win this," asked Stormchaser, his voice maintaining a challenging tone whilst also, for once, not sounding rude.

"Of course. As long as our information is up to date, and the troops obey their orders" This last statement seemed to be aimed directly at the Predacon and Maximal Generals.

"And who will lead this operation" pushed Stormchaser.

"We will," replied Obsidian motioning towards Strika.

"And us?" asked Lightfire.

"As we already informed you, your assistance will not be required"

"And as we already informed you" spat the Predacon General. "We will not allow our forces to be commanded by anyone else other than a Predacon"

"That was not what we agreed," shouted Stormchaser.

"What we agreed?" mocked the General. "Maybe not what you agreed, but we agreed to nothing"

"Than this plan will fail," said Obsidian matter-of-factly. "Discuss this matter between yourselves, however when we are ready to carry out this operation we expect your complete cooperation" The Maximals and Predacons again began arguing between themselves. 

Night-stalker had maintained his position back from the group whilst listening to their 'discussion'. He knew that the Predacons had agreed that Obsidian and Strika would have command and that the General was merely pushing in order to try and improve his status, not only with the group, but also later when he reported back to the Predacon Council. For a while he just listened then a thought occurred to him, where was Cheetor. He had entered the room with them yet was not with the Elders now. He quickly scanned the room and saw him stood at a console talking quietly into a receiver. Night-stalker began to silently creep unnoticed towards Cheetor; he wanted to know to whom he was talking and what he was talking about.

Swindle stood holding the Maximal Elders spark between his thumb and forefinger. It was tiny compared to the Decepticon and he was examining it with great interest.

"So this controls all their internal thought processes?" he asked. Ravage merely nodded. "Incredible technology"

"It just looks like a tiny power core," shouted Brawl.

"It is. It's a merger of the personality component and the power core. This way the spark is the fundamental piece of equipment which not only powers them but also is them, less parts means less problems" answered Ravage.

"It is some serious technology," agreed Swindle. "I wonder how much one of these is worth"

"Probably more to him than it is to you" laughed Buzzsaw motioning towards the shattered Maximal.

"I wonder what would happen if we placed one of our power cores inside a Maximal or Predacon chassis?" wondered Swindle.

"They'd probably either be forced to expand the size of there chassis, or blow up. Either way might be fun to see," answered Vortex. Whilst the Decepticons were talking the technorganic Elder had begun to come around. He looked around himself and saw the shattered remains of his comrade. He then looked up at Swindle and saw him inspecting the spark of his friend. Anger welled up inside him as he tried desperately to think of some way of avenging his friend and also find some way of escape for himself. He looked over at the entrance to the tunnel which the other Decepticons had left through, perhaps he could do something there to trap the others underground, at least for a while whilst the Maximals were able to prepare some form of attack plan.

"Hey the other ones come round," shouted Brawl. Slag, thought the Elder. So this was it then, death by Decepticon. And Stormchaser thought the Predacons were the problem. He felt himself being hoisted into the air and found himself face to face with Vortex.

"So are going to answer my question or not?"

"What question was that?" he knew he had little or no chance of survival, but he really didn't want his last few cycles to be with Vortex in another one of his Ariel manoeuvres. Primus help me. Suddenly they all turned towards the tunnel entrance as a high-pitched scream was heard from inside.

            Well, he was at the computer console, but how to access it. Cheetor searched the panel in front of him; no doubt there would be a single button to press to access the basic functions but then what? There would be some form of encryption on the communication system and he would have to mask the signal to that he wasn't detected. Again he wished Rattrap were here. He pressed what looked to be an 'on' button of some sort and was pleased when the screen lit up. At least that was easy, he thought. He began switching through different programs in an attempt to find the communications equipment. What, by the matrix, were the Predacons doing up here? There were so many different menus to access, nearly all of which were encrypted. Finally he found the communication rely system but, as he thought, there was an encryption on it though, surprisingly; it was only a low level one. After a short time he seemed to break the code, a little to quickly he thought, but he couldn't worry about that know. He activated the rely. A small red light started blinking, obviously someone had detected him. He had better just be quick then hadn't he, he thought.

"Rattrap, Silverbolt, Blackarachnia someone answer me" please he thought. After a few nano-klics a voice came through the small speaker.

"Spots, is that you?" a fuzzy picture slowly appeared on the viewer. Cheetor could see enough to realise who it was.

"Rattrap, thank the matrix I've found you. Are you ok?"

"Not really. Where are you?"

"On a Predacon orbital facility"

"Oh geez, they got you too?"

"Got me too? What are talking about? Who's got me? Where's Silverbolt and Blackarachnia?"

"The Preds sent some mech's out. We lost Silverbolt and Legs about a Megacycle ago. Haven't been able to get through to the kid yet, guessing the Preds got him to. Why're you on a Pred station if they ain't got you?"

"I'm with the Elders. What do you mean the Preds sent mech's out to get you? Where's Botanica?"

"Shrub's 's with me. Don't know what the Preds are after but they sure don't wanna give up" suddenly Cheetor heard a scream from somewhere behind Rattrap. "SHRUBS!" cried Rattrap, then the screen went dead.

"Rattrap, RATTRAP" said Cheetor, but there was no response then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

            Shockwave turned as Mixmaster transformed into his robot mode.

"You requested my assistance?" asked Mixmaster.

"Affirmative. The vegetation seems to be extremely thick down this final section of corridor and is hampering our advance"

"You're so powerful Shockwave, that you're defeated by a large plant. How do you ever believe that you can defeat me and lead the Decepticons," sneered Galvatron, still unable to free himself from his energon bonds. Shockwave continued, ignoring the deranged Decepticon.

"I want you to mix a highly corrosive compound in order to destroy the organism at its molecular level. Is this possible?"

"Of course" answered Mixmaster. "It'll be my pleasure" He transformed into his vehicular mode and advanced toward the blocking plant mumbling to himself about different possible mixtures as he went. As he approached the organism he released a spray from a small 'gun' from above his cab. As soon as it made contact with the plant a tremendous 'scream' reverberated around them and the organism immediately began withdrawing its tendrils from around and in front of the Decepticons clearing the path. Fascinating, thought Shockwave as the Decepticons advanced with Mixmaster leading the way.

            Cheetor spun round to find the slightly shorter form of Night-stalker looking up at him. He scowled at the Predacon.

"Temper, temper" cooed Night-stalker, his voice retaining its customary coolness. "Now, to business. May I ask what you are doing at a computer terminal and whom you were talking to?"

"You can ask. But I've got a question for you" he snapped, anger clearly showing in his optics. "Why are the Predacons chasing my friends?" Night-stalker looked shocked and seemingly hurt that Cheetor would accuse him of any involvement, though Cheetor could see a questioning gleam in his optics. He obviously knew something, he thought.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Why, whom do you think the Predacons are chasing? And what proof do you have of this?"

"Don't give me that. You've been keeping me with the Elders since the time the Decepticons attacked, why? And why have I not been allowed access to communications equipment?" Night-stalker smiled behind his faceplate.

"One, nobody forced you to stay with us after Iacon, you didn't have to join us here. Two, you never asked to use any communications equipment. Also I would like to remind you who saved you from what might have been a very unlucky predicament when the Decepticons attacked, you were in the middle of it all after all" Night-stalkers voice never wavered, it maintained its incessant smooth, almost obnoxious tone throughout. Cheetor felt like hitting him in the face, just to see if he could break that faceplate of his, then lets see him smile. He also knew that everything that Night-stalker had just said was true, but he was also sure that Night-stalker knew something about the Predacons that were trying to catch his friends.

"Alright, but what about my friends" he pressed.

"What about them?"

"Why are the Predacons trying to track them down?"

"I'm sure I have no idea" Night-stalker suddenly gained a devious glint in his optic. "Tell you what, when we've dealt with the Decepticons I'll personally lead an investigation into what happened with your friends, satisfied?" Before Cheetor could answer Night-stalker turned and stalked back over to the planning table. Cheetor felt like there was even more weight on his shoulders than before, and talking to Rattrap hadn't made him feel better rather it had put more questions into his mind. He had a thought of trying to communicate with Rattrap again but then thought that he might be pressing his luck. As of yet the Predacons hadn't sent someone to investigate who had been using the console and Cheetor thought that it would be best that they didn't. With a last look at the console he walked slowly towards the arguing Maximals and Predacons.

            The Decepticons stood in front of two large sliding doors. On one side there was a computer panel where Soundwave was working on the controls. Suddenly with a hiss and loud bang the doors slowly began to slide open. When the doors had opened as far as they could the Decepticons advanced into the large chamber, Galvatron, Cyclonus and Scourge being pushed forward in the centre of the group. When they were all inside Shockwave turned to Soundwave.

"Soundwave, activate the computer"

"As you command" answered Soundwave walking toward a large, glowing, golden globe. On the top of it was a small opening allowing access for some type of 'key'. Soundwave retracted his hand, replacing it with two long metal 'prongs' designed to fit within the opening. Soundwave inserted them into the opening and attached them to two receptors within the globe creating a connection within. He quickly withdrew his arm leaving the two 'prongs' inside to maintain the connection. The sphere brightened exponentially as power coursed through its circuits. Then slowly it rose into the air.


	7. Vector Sigma

Disclaimer: Hasbro et al still owns Transformers as they haven't been kind enough to allow me a share in their business.

Night-stalker, Dive-bomber, and probably any other names you don't recognise are mine and so are protected by me and I will guard them fiercely…Grrr

More modifications to accepted Transformer history has occurred in this fic, but hey this makes more sense to me. Some may say its Decepticon biased but if I ever finish this fic that may change.

Sorry it took so long to update, but I've been busy (Uni work and all)

Anyhew, question, queries, comments please e-mail me (I like e-mails) other wise enjoy and review!

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            "I am Vector Sigma. Before Cybertron was I was. Who reactivates me?" asked the booming voice emanating from the large golden, pulsating globe. 

"I Shockwave. Decepticon Military Operations Commander and Guardian of Cybertron" answered Shockwave taking a step towards the glowing orb.

"Why have you done this thing?" the globe demanded.

"I bring before you three of our number who have been damaged. I want you to repair them," Shockwave stated.

"Bring them forward," commanded Vector Sigma. Galvatron, Cyclonus and Scourge were roughly forced to the front of the group and paused roughly ten feet in front of the glistening orb.

"Damaged? DAMAGED! I'll have all your heads for this! I AM GALVATRON! I AM…BWAAAA," screamed Galvatron. He started to turn in order to attack his captors but was stopped short as a bolt of highly charged energy impacted onto his head, originating from Vector Sigma. Two further bolts also struck Cyclonus and Scourge with a loud crackle. Abruptly the bolts stopped and silence descended on the room. Galvatron, Cyclonus and Scourge stood rigid and impassive staring forward, optics glowing. Eventually Vector Sigma spoke, its voice slow, somewhat deeper than before with a hint of concern clearly audible.

"They have been touched…by the Chaos Bringer" Shockwave considered Vector Sigma's statement.

"Affirmative" he finally replied.

"When?" demanded the supercomputer, its voice sounded almost frantic in it's questioning. Was it possible, thought Shockwave, that the supercomputer had never registered the appearance of Unicron? But then why would it?

"Approximately five point four vorns ago" he answered impassively.

"And _he_ has been here? And I did not feel his presence?" This final question seemed to Shockwave to be a rhetorical one. Why should Vector Sigma be concerned with Unicron? Why should it feel its presence?

"Affirmative" he again answered; it made sense to at least answer the question aimed at them. The room fell into silence again. Shockwave was becoming concerned. Firstly, it seemed illogical that Vector Sigma should in any way have or require any knowledge of Unicron for it to carry out its operational parameters. Secondly, was it possible that the merging with the Autobot Alpha Trion those many vorns ago had, in some way, affected the function of the super computer? It could answer the possibility of its knowledge of Unicron, though no Autobot or Decepticon had been aware of Unicron's existence prior to his attack on Cybertron's moons. He had calculated the odds of Alpha's influence affecting Vector Sigma's acceptance to carry out its operation and relieve Galvatron of his insanity, whether Cyclonus or Scourge could be classified as insane or not was not the problem however their blind loyalty to Galvatron meant that anything they did to him must be done to them if only to maintain a form of credence with his remaining troops, but he had dismissed this as its basic programming would conclude that it must obey whomever activated and instructed it. But why was it bothered about Unicron?

            "That's preposterous," cried Lightfire. "We can't send our troops in there. It would mean their complete eradication"

"The losses would be acceptable in order to draw some of the Decepticon forces away from the main group" said Obsidian calmly. "If we can use them to draw Decepticon forces away from this area, where they seem to be encamped, and into the ruins of Mechacity we would have a greater tactical advantage as there would be more cover for our own troops as well as allowing a secondary thrust supported by Predacon ground troops through this area here. Our main force advancing through this sector here would also have the advantage of not having to face the entire Decepticon force head-on" As he spoke he passed his arm over the holographic image on the table. The images moved showing the possible tactical outcome.

"And if the Decepticons don't take the bait then we leave this section to the North-East completely unprotected allowing a Decepticon thrust through here" retorted Lightfire. Obsidian and Strika, supposedly two of the greatest Generals in Cybertronian history seemed to be making obvious tactical errors. He was beginning to wonder whether their time in space and subsequent 'repair' by the Predacons had damaged their logic circuits.

"This area will not be undefended" Strika replied calmly. "As you can see, we have a small reserve force in this section here in order to support the main front. Should the Decepticons decide to attempt to force their way through here we can merely divert these troops through there" again the holographic display showed troop movements across the battlefield.

"How are you surmising Decepticon tactics," asked Stormchaser. "Surely they will do things which your simulations can't foresee?"

"Agreed however their Commander, as long as our information is accurate, is Shockwave. Our history records show that all his actions were, and consequently are, based purely on logic. With this information we can at least prepare relatively accurate simulations" answered Obsidian.

"So you believe that we will win then?" pushed Stormchaser. Obsidian and Strika looked at each other briefly then turned to Stormchaser.

"Our estimates show a low probability of success," answered Obsidian matter-of-factly.

"Low probability of success. LOW PROBABILITY OF SUCCESS! What, by the Matrix, have you been doing?! We give you every piece of military hardware on the planet for your use and you tell us that we have a low probability of success!" screamed Stormchaser.

"The Maximals are not a militarily based species" began Obsidian. "For this reason your armed forces are relatively small, only a few hundred thousand troops. The Predacons, though much better prepared because of a more militaristic nature, have been limited to a very small-armed force because of agreements put in force by the Maximal and Predacon hierarchy since the end of the Great War. This means that though you may have well-armed troops who outnumber the Decepticon force you don't have the military ability that they do. Also, given that the Decepticon armour and weapons are far more powerful than our own, we can surmise that for every one of them that is removed from the battle there will at be least a few hundred, if not thousand casualties on our part. We also have no information on possible Decepticon reinforcements, if they have any, nor do we know what they are doing beneath the surface of the planet. If we take all of these factors into account we have a low probability of success, but not no probability of success"

"Aren't you being slightly over cautious with your figures? Do you really believe that a single Decepticon could kill thousands of our troops?" asked Lightfire.

"Whether they can or not our information is only an estimation. A single Decepticon could not by itself destroy the numbers we have put before you, however it must be remembered that we are not dealing with a single Decepticon, we are dealing with many and they will work together for their victory. With this in mind our estimation may be to high but it would be better to expect a worse case scenario then enter this confrontation expecting our losses to be slight just because we outnumber them" answered Obsidian.

"Is there any way that we can improve our chances?" asked Cheetor, stepping forward towards the 'plotting table'.

"The easiest way of increasing our probability of success would be to increase the number of troops," answered Strika. Night-stalker moved towards Obsidian.

"May I take a look at the information you have on force sizes?" he asked politely, a customary smile visible behind his faceplate. Obsidian looked at him briefly, handed him his pad and moved his attention back to the 'conversation'.

"And how, pray, do you expect us to do that? We can't just make troops magically appear," snapped the Predacon General. Night-stalker looked up briefly from scanning the information in front of him.

"You could start by making all forces available for this little campaign. They might not help but then, who knows?" The Predacon General shot a look towards Night-stalker, anger clearly evident in his optics.

"Who hasn't made all their forces available?" demanded Stormchaser. Night-stalker looked at him, a devious glint perceptible in his optic.

"Why" he began. "All of you" he said, his arm making a wide gesture to all in the room.

"I don't know what you mean," snapped the Predacon General.

"This is preposterous," screamed Lightfire. "Who are _you_ to say that that is not a complete account of our forces?" Night-stalker smiled. He looked over at Dive-bomber briefly before bringing his attention back to the main group.

"I am merely a Predacon Representative to the Maximal Council of Elders, however I do know that both of my Predacon colleagues here" he motioned towards the two Predacon Generals stood before him, both glowering at him. "And you, my esteemed Maximal Commander, have not been entirely accurate in your figures here, have you?" Stormchaser looked hard at Night-stalker.

"What makes you believe that there are forces missing?" he finally asked, his faceplate gritted in annoyance. How dare this Predacon scum tell him that all his forces weren't made available to this operation, he gave the order himself, well apart from…but then there was no way that Night-stalker could know about them, unless…

"Well I can show you the information if you would like, but I estimate that there are at least three divisions of Predacon ground and aerial support troops missing, as well as at least two divisions of Maximal storm-troopers"

"We don't have any storm-troopers," answered Nightflight. Stormchaser shot a look towards Lightfire, who was starting to shift uncomfortably on the spot. "It goes against what our military was designed to do. They are used to maintain the peace, not attack" he looked at Lightfire in order to gain some support, but when there was none forthcoming he asked, "Isn't it?"

"That is our entire military complement" Lightfire eventually agreed, though his voice didn't sound entirely convincing.

"Really?" asked Night-stalker. "My sources disagree with your information"

"Your sources, your sources, again with _your sources!_ WHO ARE YOUR SOURCES?" screamed Stormchaser. Night-stalkers grin visibly broadened.

"They are sources that provide me with reliable information," he answered calmly. Before Stormchaser could retort he turned his attention to the Predacon Generals. "And where are the three divisions?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly more stern than usual.

"This is our entire military complement; as per treaty amendment 3233" replied the lead Predacon General, his angular features showing a clearly defined scowl.

"And perhaps you would like to remind us what that treaty states?" asked Night-stalker calmly. The Generals scowl deepened.

"Predacon Military force sizes are limited to fifteen divisions, or one hundred fifty thousand troops. And if you would care to double check your information on that pad, you will see that our entire military complement as per 3233 is included" the General finished triumphantly. Night-stalkers grin broadened, oh how he enjoyed annoying the military.

"That is correct, however I would still maintain my previous statement that both the Maximals and Predacon militaries are keeping back at least, what, fifty thousand troops between you? Not a small force really is it?"

"It wouldn't be if they existed" began the Predacon General. "It seems to me that you've got wrong information. Maybe you should consider getting new sources"

"Perhaps" responded Night-stalker, his voice cool and calm. He keyed something onto the pad and turned back to Obsidian. Obsidian took the pad back from Night-stalker then turned back towards the main group, Night-stalker stepped back into the shadows.

"Well, if that's been dealt with" started Stormchaser. "How do you recommend we increase the numbers of our forces?"

"We could arm the civilian populations and bring them into the battle. They would, after all be fighting for their freedom because, and lets be honest here, the Decepticons aren't just going to let us live alongside them here are they" said the Nightflight.

"Out of the question" replied Stormchaser. "They wouldn't stand a chance against the Decepticons, they'd be destroyed in cycles"

"Any other bright ideas?" asked the Predacon General.

"We could reintroduce Vehicon drones," stated Obsidian. "They would obey orders without question as well as increasing our numbers without loss to the general populations" Night-stalker looked up sharply, his audio sensors tuned into hearing everything said. This could become very bad, he thought.

"Out of the question" Stormchaser immediately answered.

"For starters we don't even have the plans to build them," said Nightflight.

"Plus it'd take time to build the equipment to construct them" added Lightfire.

"Also, could we really take the risk using these? Does nobody remember what Megatron used them for before the great reformatting?" cried Cheetor.

"Not really" answered the Predacon General, a sadistic smirk appearing over his angular features. "Unlike some, we weren't operational" He looked back at Obsidian. "Though the pussy-cat here has a point, could we be sure that we could control them?"

"There would be no problems with the operation of the drones" began Obsidian. "They would be under our control and could be deactivated after the Decepticon situation was dealt with. It would, however, provide us with an almost limitless supply of troops to put into battle with the Decepticons whilst also reducing possible casualties on our part. Scanning both Strika and myself and using this information to rebuild them would also deal with the problem of not having their design specifications. It would also be an easy task to reprogram some of the standard chassis construction machines to build these modified designs" Night-stalker shot a look towards Dive-bomber. Dive-bomber saw, acknowledged with a nod, and began edging his way towards the lift. After Dive-bomber had entered the lift and the doors closed Night-stalker returned his attention to the debate continuing ahead of him.

"There may be some of the original machines still useable in one of the abandoned factories" said the second Predacon General, sounding rather eager. He quickly shrunk away when he noticed the glare from his 'superior'.

"Very well" Stormchaser finally said sounding rather dejected, after conferring briefly with the other Elders in the room. "If you believe that it is possible to reconstruct the drones without them harming any of the population then go ahead, at least it will mean that we won't have to suffer military losses"

"I would disagree with that logic" started Obsidian. "We will require the full complement of Maximal and Predacon forces in order for this operation to succeed"

"Why?" Stormchaser snapped. "If we're building Vehicons surely we don't need to use any of our forces"

"The construction of Vehicons will take time, and that is something that we don't have" stated Obsidian. "Currently the Decepticons are involved in something below the surface of the planet, we don't know what that is. Also the Decepticons won't remain in that sector forever, and given long enough they will soon begin to rebuild their forces into more of its former self. For this reason we will continue with the plan as set and we will include the Vehicon drones as and when their numbers become acceptably large"

"Surely the plan can be altered" started Cheetor. "We will now clearly outnumber the Decepticons to such an extent that we can't lose"

"What would you like us to alter?" asked Strika.

"Perhaps you would rather we send in our forces shouting OBLITERATE or TERMINATE without a set strategy?" continued Obsidian, his words laced with sarcasm. Cheetor growled at the two Vehicon Generals before him but said nothing in reply.

"Its agreed then" said Strika. "We will use the plan as it is set. How long will it take to set up the factories to produce the drones?"

"Not long," answered the second Predacon General. "As long as we can get the design specifications from you, and we can get hold of the parts we need in sufficient quantities I would guess roughly a megacycle, maybe two"

"In that case we will have to begin the operation before the drones are ready, as we predicted" said Obsidian. They all nodded in agreement. "Now about these forces that you are hiding" Obsidian said, holding up the data-pad that Night-stalker had returned to him.

            Cheetor had had about enough of this meeting. Though they had prepared a plan to deal with the Decepticons they would still suffer massive casualties. Not only that but they were going to start rebuilding Vehicons; the thought sent a shiver through his neural processor. He had to try and get in contact again with Rattrap; he had to know what was happening to his friends, Botanica's scream still haunted him and why were the Predacons chasing them? He looked around the room as he thought about sneaking back over to the communications console but a thought struck him, where was Dive-bomber, and more to the point where was Night-stalker. He had seen Night-stalker stood near Obsidian and had just assumed he was still there but as he looked he could see that he had definitely moved. He looked about; he then thought he heard a quiet voice coming from the direction of the communications console. He looked behind where he was stood and saw Night-stalker speaking in hushed tones into the small speaker along side the console. He strained to hear what he was saying but his audio receptors couldn't make it out. Well, he thought if Night-stalker could creep up on me when I was using the system then I can creep up on him. He began slowly edging toward the console.

            Night-stalker was beginning to feel quite concerned. He knew that the most obvious answer to their problems of lack of troops would be to begin construction of Vehicon drones, but he also knew what was happening in the old Vehicon factories. His communicator beeped informing him that Dive-bomber had reached his ship and had opened communications with his contact within the Predacon Intelligence Agency. Keeping to the shadows he swiftly moved over to the communications console that Cheetor had been using. He moved silently without anyone noticing. He could have just activated his portable cloak, but where was the fun in that? Before it had been produced and fitted to all the Agencies agents he had had to move about without being seen by use of his wits and abilities, something he would make sure that he never lost. He remembered tracking a Maximal informer for many megamiles without him ever knowing he was there. He also remembered the swift justice that he gave once he had found out the information that he had required. He stepped up to the console and adeptly accessed the communications equipment. He keyed in the access codes that would give him a secure channel, the last thing he needed now was somebody listening in on this conversation. The screen flickered then a dark shape appeared on screen.

"Report" asked the figure.

"Withdraw all forces from the Vehicon factories. Deactivate all equipment and delete all files stored in the construction machines data cores", whispered Night-stalker.

"Reason?" asked the figure bluntly.

"Maximal and Predacon militaries have agreed to begin reconstruction of Vehicons for operation against Decepticons. They must not find Agency workers or equipment or they will become suspicious. Halt all operations and withdraw immediately"

"Very well. Withdraw will begin immediately. Have Predacons and Maximals agreed to use _all_ their forces?" Night-stalker smiled.

"Negative, however Obsidian and Strika have been informed. No doubt they will have to agree to use at least some of their hidden forces. We will be victorious"

"Very good. Our spy within the Decepticon forces has been ordered to return, he will come to your ship. Expect his arrival soon. This communication ends" The screen went black as the image faded. Night-stalker suddenly sensed someone close to him. He looked surreptitiously over his shoulder and noticed Cheetor creeping closer to him. Well done, thought Night-stalker, there's hope for you yet. As Cheetor approached Night-stalker turned to him.

            Cheetor was almost over to the console when Night-stalker turned to face him. Slag, he thought. Just once I'd like to sneak over to him and not have him notice.

"Can I help you?" asked Night-stalker.

"That depends" started Cheetor. "Are you gonna tell me who you were talking to?" Night-stalker grinned and his optics glowed brightly.

"Now I believe we both know the answer to that query don't we?" Night-stalker took a step towards Cheetor and placed a hand on the shoulder of the taller Maximal. "A piece of advice: if you want answers to questions don't ask, find out yourself because whatever you're told is usually a lie"

"Using your logic you must be lying to me now" snorted Cheetor. Night-stalkers grin visibly grew.

"You're learning," he said as he removed his hand from the Maximals shoulder and sauntered back to the main group. Cheetor turned towards the console. Well if I've got to find things out for myself then so be it, he thought as he again began accessing the computers communications array.

            "Well this is boring" Dirge said to Ramjet as they leant against the wall in the Sigma chamber.

"Yeah" replied Ramjet. "Do you reckon that Vector Sigma linking with Galvatron fried its circuits?"

"Why not, it'd fry mine," added Thrust.

"Anything'd fry yours," mocked Motormaster. The three jets straitened in front of Motormaster showing their height over the shorter Stunticon leader.

"And like you could handle it" snapped back Thrust.

"Better than you could you outdated hunk of junk" retorted Motormaster. The three jets raised their weapons in unison each one targeting a different section of Motormaster's torso.

"Shall we see how much your circuits can handle?" asked Thrust. Motormaster raised his weapon, aiming it at Thrust's chest.

"A darn sight more than yours could," retorted the Stunticon leader.

"Should we help Motormaster?" Wildrider asked his fellow Stunticons who were stood a few feet away from the small feud.

"Why?" asked Deadend.

"Well he is our leader" pointed out Breakdown.

"So?" Deadend queried.

"Without him we can't form Menasor," stated Dragstrip.

"Still not seeing a problem" said Deadend. "All that means is I don't have to listen to his voice in my head any more"

"Good point" the other Stunticons agreed and continued to watch the action unfold ahead of them.

Shockwave heard the ruckus going on behind him and turned. He saw Motormaster about to start a fight with the three jets and decided to intervene.

"Lower your weapons all of you" he commanded, raising his own to give himself a show of force. "Your inane squabbling has nothing to do with our being here. Save your energy for the upcoming battle"

"Battle?" asked Ramjet lowering his weapon.

"Of course" answered Shockwave. "It is logical to assume that the Predacons and Maximals will soon launch an attack on our position in order to force us off the planets surface, it was for this reason that I ordered the Combaticons to remain on guard outside of the entrance in order to provide us with early warning of such an attack" Shockwave turned to Astrotrain. "I also believe that it is time to reactivate the last of our troops. Return to our ship and transport the remaining Decepticons to the surface" Astrotrain nodded and left the room. As the Decepticons stood down a low murmur was heard from Vector Sigma. Shockwave turned to look at the supercomputer. It was beginning to glow even more intensely than before, then it spoke its voice much deeper than before but with a powerful resonance.

"My children have returned" it stated. Shockwave looked quizzically at the glowing orb. Technically it could be surmised that they were its children, as it gave them all life, however that was not a general term used by Transformers as they technically had no offspring as an organic creature would understand it. "The protectors of Cybertron have returned victorious from all their challenges" it continued. Again Shockwave was unsure of what the supercomputer meant. What challenges? Perhaps over time the supercomputer had suffered circuit failures.

"Challenges?" asked Shockwave.

"Yes" replied the computer. It was either being unhelpful by choice, which Shockwave decided against or it didn't understand the question.

"Interrogative: What challenges?" Shockwave asked again.

"The first was your freedom from the Slave Makers. The second was the coming of the Chaos Bringer. As you are here you must have succeeded thusly I have succeeded" answered the supercomputer.

"Interrogative: Who are the Slave Makers" questioned Shockwave.

"You refer to them as the Quintessons" answered the glowing orb. "When the first mechanical life was created on this planet from my design parameters they were constructed to defend from the Chaos Bringer, however they were extremely basic in design and lacked sophistication. I decided that they would not be powerful enough to defend this planet against the Chaos Bringer so attempted to draw other life forms here in order to improve my designs. The Slave Makers were drawn to this planet by their greed and used these designs to produce more robots to perform tasks for them. They soon began to produce more sophisticated designs however they were unable to produce workable intelligence and so required me. I increased my design capabilities and learnt from their own designs in order to expand my own and incorporate them into my own robots specifications. My first attempts were accepted by the Slave Makers and formed the basis of both a military line and standard workforce in order to sell as consumer goods. My first, more basic designs were designated Autobots. As my will increased so I provided them with their own intelligence to repel the Slave Makers. However, their design was not one primarily for combat and for this purpose I designed and constructed a second, more specialised group of robots to repulse the Slave Makers entirely. These units were fitted with improved armour and weapons. The Slave Makers classified these as Decepticons. These units saved Cybertron. You are the descendants of those units. You are the Children of Primus"

            Swindle threw the technorganic Maximal Elder to the ground, its systems already offline.

"Well, we learned absolutely frag all from him," moaned Swindle.

"But at least we had some fun torturing him" added Brawl. Ravage looked up at the taller Combaticon and shook his head. Brawl lived for one thing only, killing anyone or anything that got in his way. It was a shame really that Starscream hadn't found a better component when he released the Combaticons from the Decepticon detention vaults. Ah well, Starscream never was to bright himself, so it seemed fitting that Brawl should be one of his creations. He turned toward the entrance to the underground tunnel after he heard what sounded like something transforming and then a roar of engines. Astro-seconds later Astrotrain erupted from the tunnel entrance in his shuttle mode spewing flames from his engines as he accelerated into space. Nice of someone to have told us he was coming, he thought. He looked back toward Buzzsaw who was inspecting the technorganic Maximal. Had he continued looking in the direction of the tunnel entrance slightly longer, he may have noticed a small speck follow Astrotrain out of the tunnel and fly off in the opposite direction.

            "We have no more troops!" cried Lightfire. "I don't know what that Predacon put on that pad but I can assure you that we have no more forces available than the ones that we have already guaranteed you use of" Lightfire looked almost to be pleading with Obsidian who remained completely deadpan, intent on his investigation. Night-stalker had to force himself not to laugh out loud as he watched the 'play' going on ahead of him as he circled the group, whilst keeping in the shadows.

"The information on this pad would disagree with your statement," replied Obsidian. Noticing a slight smirk appearing over the Predacon Generals face he quickly added "Both your statements"

"I protest," snarled the Predacon General. "Just because this Maxi lover has put down that we have more troops, I can assure you that we don't" his face began to contort slightly, giving him a look of a wronged child. "Our military has been limited to a maximum size for many Stellarcycles and I can assure you that the Predacon Council would never allow such an obvious breach of our agreements"

"Which Predacon Council?" retorted Stormchaser.

"_The_ Predacon Council" snapped the General. "I don't know what you may think you know about Predacon command structure but I can tell you, we have only _one_ Council"

"Since when?" argued Stormchaser.

"Now, now children" interrupted Night-stalker. "I believe we are going slightly off topic"

"Agreed" said Strika. "If you will not willingly provide a full force complement for this operation, how can we be sure that it will succeed?"

"But that is _all_ our troops" pleaded Nightflight. "For Primus's sake why won't you believe that?"

"Because of this" stated Obsidian slotting the pad into the holo-generator on the side of the plotting table. Immediately the original image was replaced with a long-range overhead shot of three different locations. With a little work Obsidian systematically zoomed in on each of the locations in turn. In each location large numbers military personnel not conforming to general military designs were present. The Maximal troops had much thicker armour plating than the average Maximal, as well as carrying much larger weapons. The Predacons, though to the untrained eye looked not unlike the average Predacon, had much larger weapons and a slightly different insignia emblazoned on their chassis. Obsidian turned to the gathered Commanders. "If you have no extra forces, whose are these?"

"Its obviously a trick" snorted Stormchaser.

"I've never seen Maximals with this type of body armour before" said Nightflight, quizzically. Lightfire said nothing and just started shifting uncomfortably on the spot, attempting to keep out of optic contact with Obsidian and Strika. The lead Predacon General merely sneered, the other just looked on blankly seeming not registering the images before him.

"Shall we try this again?" started Obsidian. "Will you provide us with _all_ of your military forces?" The Generals and Stormchaser looked at each other.

"I'll need confirmation from my superiors" the Predacon General finally said, his head slumping forward in defeat. Where did that Maximal loving Predacon Representative get his information? And why was he so willing to leave his people undefended after they had got rid of the Decepticon threat? With these thoughts he turned and stormed towards the elevator. Night-stalker watched him leave. One down, he mused. He then turned his attention to Stormchaser who was talking quietly to Lightfire and the other Maximal Elders. Nightflight was kept out of the discussion, to his obvious disgust.

"Very well" agreed Stormchaser, turning to look at Obsidian and Strika. "We agree to allow the use of these forces, as long as the Predacons agree to use theirs. Also, when there are sufficient numbers of Vehicons available I want these troops withdrawn from the battlefield" The two Cybertronian Generals looked at each other then turned back to the Maximal.

"Very well, however it must be understood that they are under _our_ command during this operation and that _any_ losses are acceptable for our victory" Stormchaser hung his head.

"Agreed" he finally accepted. This is going better than I'd hoped, thought Night-stalker. Nearly all the pieces were in position and, barring any unforeseen problems, everything should turn as planned.

            He flew quickly. He had to meet his contact quickly or else the Agent he was supposed to report to in the Predacon Intelligence Agency would become suspicious, and one thing he had learnt since joining them was don't make them suspicious. He flew through the streets intent on his mission. The Agency would soon find that this small fly would do them a lot of damage. This small fly shouldn't have just been ignored. They should have given him his old body back. They shouldn't have just told him to do this and that. They should have had more respect for him. When he finally got the power that was his due they would be sorry, they would all be sorry. He flew down a darkened alley. For some reason the lights down here didn't work properly, probably why it had been chosen as the meeting place. He stopped and perched himself on a small ledge. Where was his contact? Why wasn't he here already? He couldn't be late giving his final report or else the Agent he had to meet might try and swat him. Typical, he thought. I do what they tell me and they don't show. He checked his internal chronometer. It was time to go, he couldn't just wait around here forever. Just as he lifted off from the edge however he heard a deep, raspy voice behind him.

"Leaving so soon? I had hoped you might stick around for a little bit longer" He turned and looked in the direction of the voice. He could just about see an outline of a large mech but couldn't see anything specific, except for its eyes. Those deep red glowing eyes that seemed to bore into him. Had he not had his vocaliser deactivated he might have screamed, but then if he did he would never get a decent body. He flew over to the mech and removed a small disc from the recorder on his back and placed it in the hand of the mech before him. It was small compared to himself, so compared to the 'bot before him it was minute.

"Thank you" said the 'bot. "Your loyal service to the Predacon Council and Starstrike will be rewarded" With that the mech turned away and disappeared into the shadows. He couldn't worry where the mech had gone though. He turned and flew off in the direction of the coordinates he had been given to meet the Agencies Agent, Station Omega. He again checked his chronometer. Slag it, he thought, I'm late. Why universe hate Waspinator?

            Cheetor was typing furiously at the control panel before him. It had been pretty simple to again gain access to the communications system, however he decided to do a better job of covering his tracks this time. Hopefully the main control board should just detect this as background static and ignore it. He finished keying in the final codes, then turned his attention to trying to regain contact with Rattrap. After a few nano-klics a grainy shape slowly started to appear on the screen. "Rattrap? Rattrap, is that you?" he asked anxiously.

"Sorry, that number is unavailable at present. Please try again later" came the voice over the intercom. Cheetor looked at the viewer puzzled for a nano-klic until the screen cleared. Before him was the face of a Predacon, his dark blue face reminiscent of Dinobot.

"Where's Rattrap? What have you done with him?" spat Cheetor.

"Now, now. Temper, temper. You'll never get a positive response by shouting at a mech like that now will you?" came the reply. Oh no, thought Cheetor, it's another Night-stalker. "Now then, lets start again shall we?" began the Predacon. "You're looking for someone called Rattrap, correct? I assume Rattrap would be a Maximal, I mean why else would you be trying to communicate from a Predacon Orbital facility? I assume this Rattrap is a friend of yours, maybe even your contact in the surveillance of Predacon activities? That would certainly answer what you're doing on a Predacon station, using a Predacon communications system, whilst trying to get into contact with a Maximal" Whilst the Predacon said these last few words and continued to rant randomly the screen began to flicker and contort. Faintly in the background Cheetor heard a recognisable voice say,

"Spots? Is that you?" Cheetor instantly felt his spirits lift hearing Rattraps voice, but also knew that if he said anything in reply the Predacon before him would instantly realise what was going on and try to use the signal to track Rattraps location. He began trying to change his signal frequency so that he would lose the Predacon and instead focus on Rattrap. Slowly the Predacons visage faded, and Rattraps image fuzzily came on the screen before him. He felt himself physically sigh as he saw his friend's face before him.

"Rattrap? Is that you? Are you okay?" Cheetor asked quickly.

"Yea, I'm fine but I'm worried 'bout Shrubs she says Cybertron's in pain and that the Oracle's trying to talk to her"

"The Oracle?" asked Cheetor, slightly taken aback.

"Yea, but for some reason it ain't workin' properly. How's 'bout you? Having any Pred problems?"

"Not really, nothing I can't handle anyway. I'm more concerned about you. There's a Predacon on your frequency and it seems he's doing a pretty good job of tracking you"

"Yea, but we're smarter than him. He won't catch us anytime soon, as long as Shrubs don't have another screaming fit"

"Is there anyway you can get somewhere where I can meet you?"

"Erm, we could try makin' our way to where you are?"

"Not likely. It's a Pred station, I don't think they'll just let you stroll on in. Anyway, I've got a feeling we won't be here much longer. I think we're about to launch the attack against the Decepticons"

"Really? I'd like to see that! Beatin' the servo's outta dem should be fun to see. Couldn't you get a shuttle or summit and meet us?"

"I could try, but then this is a Pred station, I don't think they'll just let me borrow a ship" Cheetor stopped as he heard the lift door open behind him. Slag, he thought, his mind racing over different scenarios that could now happen. He watched as the Predacon General stormed over to the main group, thankfully he completely ignored him. He turned back to the screen. "Okay, give me your approximate position and I'll try and find a way to get to you" As Cheetor said this he heard what sounded like a crackle of static come from behind him. He turned and saw nothing, except the group over by the plotting table. He turned back to the screen.

"Two nano-klics" said Rattrap. "There, it should come through onto yer screen about now" As Rattrap spoke the numbers giving his position flashed up. Cheetor noted them and signed off. As the system shutdown he looked towards the main group and noticed that Night-stalker wasn't among them. He looked about quickly scanning the room but couldn't see him, then the lift doors opened. No one came into the room, and no one seemed to go out and a thought struck Cheetor with some dread. Night-stalker has a cloaking device.

            Night-stalker was feeling rather pleased with himself. Before him he had the Maximals agreeing to use the last of their military might against the Decepticons, and they would no doubt suffer massive casualties. All the easier for us after this little escapade, he thought. As he looked about he saw Cheetor was again at the communications console, he smiled inwardly. So predictable, he thought. You give them one little hint and they do exactly what you want. He started to advance towards the Maximal. As he did so he seemed to shimmer slightly, then disappear as he activated his cloaking device. He was now stood directly behind Cheetor, listening and watching as he talked to Rattrap. It wouldn't be long until the Predacons who were tracking him would catch up with him and then Cheetor would be completely alone, and prone to more mistakes. Things were going exactly to plan. This little problem with the Decepticons might have accelerated their timetable but no matter, they would get all the Maximals who had dealt with Vehicons out of the way now where they could do no harm in the future, Obsidian and Strika were already dealt with. He turned at the sound of the lift doors opening and saw the Predacon General re-enter the room. He smiled when he saw the way that he held his head, the Predacon Council had obviously ordered him to allow the use of their 'illegal' forces. This was just so easy, he thought. He turned his attention back to the screen and as he watched the two Maximals talk he heard that Rattrap was going to send his coordinates to Cheetor so he could send a rescue ship. Well, he thought, there will definitely be a ship coming. However, just before Rattrap sent the coordinates his radio crackled to life. Cursing, Night-stalker backed away from the console and Cheetor so that he wouldn't be discovered. This had better be good, he thought. He heard Dive-bomber say something about the Agencies spy had made it to their ship and was ready for debriefing. He sent an acknowledging signal and turned back to the screen. Just before Cheetor deactivated the link he saw the coordinates. Noting them in his neural processor he turned and walked toward the lift. He would send the coordinates to the Predacon trackers and let them pick him up. He now had to deal with one of the most annoying of the Agencies spies.

            "Why big dark bot not let Wazzpinator out of room?" asked the small technorganic fly as he circled a computer console in the centre of the room. Dive-bomber was already starting to become annoyed with their visitor. He had refused to give his report until they had reactivated his vocal processor, but now that they had he just wouldn't shut up. Not only that  but he had now decided that he wouldn't give his report until Night-stalker showed up. He would have forced him into giving him the report but the small size of this particular bot hindered his ability to catch him, its what made him such a good spy he supposed. But that didn't make it any less likely that when Night-stalker turned up and found that the report that he would expect to be waiting for him was not there that he would stay in a good mood. Just what I need, thought Dive-bomber. As these last thoughts crossed his mind the door slid open and Night-stalker stepped into the room. He looked at Dive-bomber who nodded in the direction of the micro fly. Night-stalker, to Dive-bombers surprise, smiled and took a step towards him.

"Leave us" he commanded. Dive-bomber looked at him with a puzzled expression, but nodded and started to head towards the exit, however before he left Night-stalker called after him. "Inform the Maximal search team that we have the coordinates of their quarry, it's in the computer so if you want to send them it they would probably be most grateful" Dive-bomber nodded and stepped out of the room. As the door slid shut Night-stalker turned his attention to the technorganic mini-fly. "You have your report I assume" he asked.

"Of courzze" came the reply as Waspinator landed on the central console.

"Its about time" said Night-stalker as he stepped over to the console. He typed in a code and a large tube lowered from the ceiling. "Place the disk under the machine" he commanded. Waspinator looked as if he were about to argue, then seemed to think twice about it and ejected a small disk from the recorder on his back and placed it under the tube. Night-stalker accessed the controls and a bright beam of light emanated from the base of the tube. Gradually a humming sound grew as the power increased. Slowly the disk grew in size until it was large enough to fit into the standard disk readers in the room. Night-stalker deactivated the ray, picked up the disk and turned to leave the room.

"Why not uze ray to return Wazzpinator to proper size" said a voice from behind him. Night-stalker turned to look at the small Predacon.

"Do you _really_ want to try it?" he grinned. Waspinator looked at Night-stalkers face.

"Not really" he replied.

"No, I didn't think so" said Night-stalker still smiling but he looked slightly disappointed. Before he turned out of the room his communicator beeped. "What" he asked.

"Um… I think you had better come up here" said Dive-bomber through the intercom, his voice didn't inspire confidence.

"On my way" he growled, deactivating his communicator. As he stepped out of the door he turned to the wasp. "Stay here and_ don't_ touch anything" At that the door closed. Waspinator looked up at the door and scowled.

"Big black bots think they better than Wazzpinator. They'll see"

            The door opened before him allowing entrance to a large dark chamber. Before him he could see a large 'throne' with a mech sat in it facing a large screen with computer terminals before it. The mech seated on the 'throne' was using the panel and accessing different areas of Cybertronian security. The 'throne' rotated at the sound of the opening doors and the seated mech beckoned for him to enter. As he walked towards the mech he outstretched his hand. In it he held a newly enlarged disk.

"The report on the Decepticons Lord Starstrike" Starstrike smiled.

"Place it into the reader" he commanded. The mech did as he was ordered and the report was brought onto the screen. "Excellent, excellent" repeated Starstrike. "I assume that Waspinator should have reached the Predacon Intelligence Agent by now?"

"Yes Lord Starstrike"

"Good. Inform Obsidian and Strika of the existence of this material"

"As you command" Soon, thought Starstrike, soon I will have a proper body and rule all of Cybertron.

            Night-stalker entered his command centre to be greeted with the sight of Obsidian, Strika, Stormchaser, the Predacon and Maximal Generals and Cheetor. Parts of the floor near his commanded chair had been lifted and replaced with new computer banks, and there were wires and cables stretching around the command centre that, to Night-stalkers eye had no reason to be there. He scanned the room and saw a sheepish looking Dive-bomber looking at him. "What, by the Pit, is going on in here" demanded Night-stalker. Starstrike turned to Night-stalker, this time it was his turn to smile.

"We required a command ship from which to control the attack on the Decepticons, and knowing that this ship had a cloaking device we decided that it would be perfect for the role" Night-stalker glowered at the Maximal Elder.

"That was a little foolish wasn't it" he began. "This ship isn't very heavily armed. If we are found by the Decepticons we would most likely be destroyed"

"Then we better make sure the cloak works properly then shouldn't we" replied Stormchaser. Before Night-stalker could protest any more Stormchaser turned away and moved back towards the main group. Seething, Night-stalker joined them.

"Very well" he snapped. "You can use this ship but I want to make one thing very clear. This is _my_ ship. What _I_ say goes"

"Accepted" said Obsidian calmly. He looked at Night-stalker. "Now would you please hand me that disk in your hand" Night-stalker just stared at the Cybertronian General. Was he deranged? Why would he want this disk?

"Why?" he asked. He hated being in this position. He was the one on the back foot and he was feeling more and more uncomfortable.

"It contains information on the Decepticon forces that may be invaluable for this operation. As the first wave of Predacon transport craft should be approaching the area under cloak, any information that we can add to make this operation a success should be utilised" Night-stalker was dumbfounded. How did Obsidian know what was on the disk? Someone must have told him, but who? There were two possibilities that sprung to mind. One, Dive-bomber. Being the immense fool that he was could have accidentally let slip about the disk. Two, Waspinator. He didn't trust the bug, and it would have been easy for him to inform Obsidian and Strika before he had arrived on his ship. He was jogged out if his thoughts by Obsidian. "The disk" he prodded. Night-stalker looked up and numbly passed him the disk. Obsidian inserted it into the reader in front of him and began reviewing the information.

"We should head towards the battle area now" Strika said to Night-stalker. "The battle should have already commenced by the time we arrive" Night-stalker just nodded. He turned towards the flight officer.

"Set course for Mechacity and activate the cloak" he ordered. He fell into his seat, his mind racing.

            Shockwave was becoming perturbed. Vector Sigma had had its little spout and had again fallen silent. Galvatron, Cyclonus and Scourge still stood rigid, staring forward but as yet Vector Sigma had not done what had been requested. They had been stood here for nearly eight breems and nothing had happened. He was about to turn and talk to Soundwave when Soundwave suddenly barked out.

"Alert. Alert. Enemy craft approaching" Before Shockwave could respond his communicator crackled into life.

"Shockwave, this is Onslaught. We've got some trouble up here" Suddenly the communication went dead and the ground shook with the sound of a large explosion. Shockwave acted immediately.

"Decepticons we are under attack. SCRAMBLE"


	8. The Battle Begins

Disclaimer: I still have no rights within the ownership of Transformers as Hasbro et al still haven't talked to me. Night-stalker, Dive-bomber etc are mine and though I don't mind if you use them I would request being asked first.

Sorry for the delay in updating but as usual Uni work has had to take (limited) precedence.

Questions, queries, comments please feel free to e-mail me, I like e-mails otherwise read and review!

            Thrust, Ramjet, Dirge and Blitzwing burst from the tunnel opening in their respective aircraft modes closely followed by the speeding Stunticons below them. As they banked to bring their weapons to bear on their targets the enormity of the situation struck. Before them they could see thousands of Predacon troops disembarking from large transports that were hovering above the surface of the planet. Before they could fire at their targets they were attacked by hundreds of laser blasts coming from ahead of them. They each began evasive manoeuvres as they attempted to avoid being hit. Below them the Stunticons drove almost imperviously into the midst of the disembarking Predacons.

"Yahoo" screamed Wildrider, as he ploughed through a large of group of Predacons. Others fired wildly at the charging Stunticons but to no avail. Behind them Onslaught, Swindle, Brawl and Ravage had taken cover behind some rubble and were firing madly into the throng of Predacons ahead of them.

"Blastoff, Vortex try and take out one of those transports, that should take out a significant number of their forces," commanded Onslaught through his communicator.

"Of course. What did you think we were trying to do?" answered Blastoff, flying above in his shuttle mode, narrowly avoiding being struck by weapons fire. Shockwave, Soundwave, Reflector and the Constructicons exited the tunnel entrance and immediately began exchanging fire with the Predacon forces.

"Rumble, Frenzy, Laserbeak, Ratbat eject. Operation, warfare" commanded Soundwave opening his chest compartment. The four cassettes ejected from the safety of Soundwave's chest, transformed and quickly began firing at the Predacons. Shockwave was about to turn to Soundwave to get approximate enemy numbers when Soundwave suddenly shouted. "Alert. Alert. Enemy craft approaching from the South-East" Shockwave turned and in the distance could make out more transport craft approaching with fighter escorts.

"Order Ramjet, Thrust, Dirge and Blitzwing to intercept and destroy those transports"

"As you command Shockwave"

 Immediately the jets broke off their assault on the Predacons and changed course to intercept the approaching enemy reinforcements. Ramjet, Dirge and Thrust in a Vic formation with Blitzwing just off to one side. The four Decepticon jets flew head-on into the large numbers of enemy fighters. Missiles and laser fire flew about them as they continued to fly towards their target. A missile struck Thrust on his wingtip reducing his manoeuvrability as the Decepticons simultaneously opened fire on one of the massive transport ships. Explosions rippled across the surface of the ship as missile upon missile ploughed into its hull. Suddenly there was a massive implosion as one of the fuel cells caught alight. The ship began falling out of the sky at high speed, breaking up as it went. The four Decepticons flew passed and turned for a pass at one of the other transports. Suddenly they were caught up in massive amounts of laser fire from behind.

"Damn it" shouted Ramjet. "Where in the sacred spires did they appear from?"

"No idea" replied Blitzwing. "But I'd recommend that someone deal with 'em"

"Dirge your with me, we'll deal with those fighters. Thrust, Blitzwing take out as many of those transports as you can"

"Acknowledged" came the reply as Dirge and Ramjet broke off to intercept the attacking fighters.

"Death comes to all those who cross me!" cried Dirge as he dived on a group of fighters, weapons blazing. He caught three in a hail of weapons fire before the others were able to avoid him.

"So, d'you reckon these are Maximals or Predacons?" Ramjet asked.

"Doesn't matter to me, they both blow up so easily as to make this like shooting Cyber-ducks in a barrel" answered Dirge. Ramjet just laughed as he rammed into one of the fighters ahead of him, puncturing through its body as the poor creature cried out in pain.

            "Whoopee, this is what I really call a battle!" cried Brawl transforming into his tank mode and releasing burst after burst of artillery fire at the attacking Predacons.

"You mean these are supposed to be our descendants? I'm not impressed," said Swindle continuing to fire at a group of Predacons who were desperately trying to avoid the Decepticons fire. "It's like shooting at Micromasters, they just keep trying to hide"

"Well for Micromasters there seems to be hell of a lot of them," said Ravage shooting a Predacon who had somehow got relatively close to the Decepticons.

"Doesn't matter to me" shouted Brawl. "A targets a target, and non o' these are gonna live long enough to have descendants of their own"

            They could feel their ship rock. Explosions were going off outside but they paid them no heed; they were here for only a single reason. They stood staring forwards, their neural processors checking and rechecking their instructions. They would be ready. This was what they were designed to do. Mild ripples of fear and anticipation would occasionally make itself known but it would be fought down.

"Disembarkation in two cycles" echoed the booming voice through the speaker system. Two cycles, two cycles in which to make your peace with Primus. Two cycles in which to prepare yourself for the inevitable battle ahead. They had been trained for this but more than that they were designed for this, their very being had been grafted for this one and only purpose. This may not have been the enemy they had been expecting to face, but they would fight for the honour of all Predacons. They would be fighting side by side with the Maximals, their enemies for so long. They would be fighting against their own ancestors. At least they would be fighting a real army, not just some hyped up civilian population with dreams of grandeur. This would be a battle to be remembered, a battle where all of Cybertron rose up in an attempt to stop an aggressor. Many felt that maybe what they were doing was wrong. They would be fighting the 'bots that many of them had idolised from their past, great names such as Shockwave or Soundwave. It was also rumoured that some of the original Mayhems were here, Decepticon shock troops that instilled fear into their enemies and were stronger than the legendary Autobot Wreckers. 

"Disembarkation in one cycle. All forces transform" As one great mass every Predacon in the landing area transformed into similar looking ground assault vehicles. They were ready. They would leave the safety of this cloaked vessel and they would fight to the end, they would fight for the survival of Cybertron, _their_ Cybertron. They had their orders. They were well trained. They would succeed. Failure was an alien concept. They were trained not to fail. They were trained to win or die trying. They were here to fight, and if that meant that they would have to fight the heroes of their past then so be it for victory would come to them, and the Decepticons would again feel the bitter taste of defeat but this time at the hands of their own descendants. They would win. It was inevitable. The lights visibly brightened as the cloak shutdown. The giant exit ramp lowered quickly and the call came through.

"ATTACK, ATTACK, ATTACK!" They moved forwards as one. Hundreds of Predacons moved to attack the heroes of their past with only the thought of victory filling their minds. Then came the explosion, the searing heat as flame and molten metal ripped through the base of the ship, followed only by darkness.

            Shockwave transformed back into his robot mode. He and the Combaticons had just combined all their firepower on one spot of the vessel that had just uncloaked before them and had succeeded in destroying its lower decks as well as its thrusters. It fell heavily on top of the disembarking troops below it. The explosions rippled across its surface and the surface of the planet blowing many of the Predacons near it to the ground. The screams of pain could be heard throughout the battlefield and though Shockwave knew it to be illogical he felt pure ecstasy at that sound, the sound of their enemies being crushed before the might of the Decepticons. If he could have, he would have smiled. Soon the Decepticons would again take their rightful place as the rulers of Cybertron and from there, the galaxy and this time there were no Autobots to stop them.

            "Predacon Wing Epsilon, intercept Decepticon fighters in section Omega" 

Night-stalker watched as Obsidian and Strika gave commands to the troops on the ground.

"Maximal Battalion Delta Tau, disembark and begin assault" 

He watched on the viewer the pictures from below them. The Decepticons limited forces were keeping the joint Predacon Maximal forces at bay.

"Maximal Wing Kappa Delta, assist disembarkation of Maximal ground troops in section Alpha" 

The large holographic imager that had been fitted in his Command Centre also showed an image of the battle below but this time a 3D rendered image using Maximal, Predacon and Decepticon sigils to denote who each of the forces were.

"Predacon Battalion Omega Alpha, move to section Delta four and assist with Maximal push on Decepticon positions" 

The battle hadn't been raging for that long, and they had arrived after it had started, and already it was clear that they had underestimated the resistance that the Decepticons would put up to defend themselves.

"Maximal Wing Omega Kappa, withdraw to coordinates two three zero and join with Wing Delta Epsilon"

Transport craft were, of course, still arriving into the area as there was only about half of their total force here. Those forces, however, were having a pit of a time attempting to break through Decepticon defences. Every time it seemed that maybe, just maybe, they had found an opening a Decepticon would appear and with its superior firepower send the attackers into confusion. They didn't necessarily have to kill the numbers that Obsidian and Strika were thinking of earlier. All they had to do was give enough of a fright to the attackers, or catch them off guard, and they would be able to at least slow their attack. In which time, that Decepticon usually had enough time to call in some of his comrades and force the attackers back. They were doing something that Obsidian and Strika seemed to be forgetting about. They were using their initiative. Obsidian and Strika had fought many battles together and won them all, well all but the Vehicon incident, but they had won them with tactics that were planned from above. The Decepticons, who had all fought in many more battles than both Obsidian and Strika together, possibly more than the whole population of Cybertron together, were fighting in a well planned but easy to change style. This meant that they were responding quickly and efficiently to each change of tactic that the two Generals tried. It didn't seem to openly affect them though, they continued with the same tactic nonetheless.

"Predacon Battalion Alpha Beta, intercept Decepticon in section Mu Upsilon"

The biggest problem was that the attackers felt something about the Decepticons that they didn't, many of them were scared or worse in awe of the mighty robots that were before them. Many of the Predacons were in awe of the Decepticons because they were their ancestors. No, more than that, they were their heroes. They were what the Maximals had forced the Predacons not to be they were warriors. Fighting an enemy is one thing, fighting an idol is another. On the flip side many of the Maximals were scared of the Decepticons. Damn if I was down there I would be and I'm _not_ a Maxi, thought Night-stalker. These giant robots from our past that were believed to have been defeated and destroyed were now killing and maiming thousands of them, the fear was palpable and one of their best weapons against their attackers, whether they knew it or not.

"Maximal Wing Kappa Tau, move to coordinates one four zero and begin assault"

"Predacon transport group Lambda reports that they are ready to begin transport of the last of the Predacon ground forces" came a voice from Night-stalkers right. It was one of his own crew who had been roped into assisting Obsidian and Strika communicate with the transport groups. Again Night-stalker could feel the anger inside him rising because _his_ ship and _his_ crew were being used without _his_ full consent.

"Very well. Order them to transport those troops to coordinates five zero seven and unload," commanded Obsidian. The crewmember looked at Night-stalker briefly and seeing a small nod complied with the order. At least someone remembers the chain of command around here, thought Night-stalker.

"Maximal Battalion Tau Omega, move to coordinates one four zero…correction two four zero and begin assault"

Night-stalker watched as thousands of troops were sent into battle and were slaughtered. Slag, many of them weren't even getting into battle. The Maximal transports couldn't cloak so were being intercepted before they even reached the battlefield and the Predacon ones were being attacked as soon as they uncloaked. It looked to be a slaughter, but for the wrong side.

"Predacon Wing Mu Upsilon, intercept and escort Maximal transport Zeta"

"Predacon Battalion Iota Kappa, move to coordinates zero four zero"

Night-stalker watched the battle unfold. Was it really possible that Obsidian and Strika, two of Cybertron's greatest Generals would really make this big a mistake? The Decepticons were intercepting every push on every side and were almost able to…wait a nano-klic. Night-stalker leant forward and smiled slightly. So, that's what their up to, he thought. His grin grew broader. Never thought they would be that wasteful, could work though. They did say victory at all costs.

            Vortex felt the missile connect with his rear rotor and immediately lost control. He fell heavily out the air, smoke pouring out of the rear of his helicopter transform. Before he hit the ground he transformed into his robot mode and hit the ground hard. Thankfully for him he wasn't to far from the position being held by his fellow Combaticons. Standing he charged towards them, laser fire scorching his back.

"They seem to have brought out the heavy artillery," he said to Onslaught, looking at the blackened mess that was formally his rear rotor.

"Then I believe it's the time we did the same," replied Onslaught. "Combaticons transform into Bruticus" With that the five Combaticons changed into their third modes in order to link into the giant gestalt. Bruticus roared.

"Bruticus angry" he began, almost cradling the arm Vortex had become. "Bruticus destroy pesky Predacons" He fired his sonic stun gun into the throng of Predacon forces attempting to move towards the Decepticon positions vaporising many and blowing others to the ground. Immediately Predacon and Maximal aerial forces began attacking the giant gestalt. Though their individual firepower would do no damage to the giant, combined there was a possibility that they could do some damage, or if nothing else distract him long enough to give the ground forces a chance. Bruticus merely stood flailing his arms in an attempt to swat the smaller Transformers out of the sky.

            "We're being slaughtered," cried Stormchaser. Obsidian and Strika ignored his outburst and continued to command their forces. "You have to order a withdrawal," continued Stormchaser beginning to edge forward. An arm shot out and pushed Stormchaser backwards. Looking down Stormchaser recognised Night-stalkers black armour pushing against his waist.

"Now, now. Leave the Generals to their work" came Night-stalkers smooth, calculating voice. "You wouldn't want them to make a mistake now would you?" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"As far as I can see the only mistake we made was making you the Predacon Representative," snapped Stormchaser.

"Owww, that really hurts me deep into my spark" answered Night-stalker feigning pain and placing a hand over his chest. "It hurts me deeper than you'll ever know" Stormchaser just scoffed and turned his attention back to Obsidian and Strika.

"We're losing too many troops and you two aren't doing anything to curtail those losses," he shouted pointing an accusing finger at the two Cybertronian Generals.

"The operation is going exactly to plan," stated Strika without taking her optics off her controls.

"To plan," cried Stormchaser. "How can you say that? We're being massacred!"

"The losses are not any higher than those with which we were predicting"

"But we're losing!" pleaded Stormchaser. "We've lost over a third of the forces that we have sent into combat already and even with the reinforcements that have still to arrive our losses are to great"

"The operation is continuing to plan. It will succeed" Stormchaser shook his head and was about to continue berating the Generals when Night-stalker turned his head towards him and asked,

"Do you even know what the plan is?"

"To defeat the Decepticons," snapped Stormchaser. Night-stalker slowly shook his head.

"There is so much more to it than that"

"Really" said Stormchaser mockingly. "Well if you're so knowledgeable why don't you enlighten me?"

"Very well" replied Night-stalker, ignoring the venom with which Stormchaser had asked. "The plan, as you said, is to defeat the Decepticons. As I see it the part of the operation currently underway at present, and I'm sure either Obsidian or Strika will correct me if I'm wrong, is to wear down the Decepticons energy reserves. As you should be aware our ancestors used an inordinate amount of energy to function properly. Now, with the numbers of targets that they have to shoot at down there added with the fact that they have already been in combat at least once before, when they first landed, they are using up their energy reserves even faster than they would usually. There would also appear to have been no point since they landed that they refuelled so we can surmise that they only have a limited amount of energy left thusly all we have to do is get them to use up their energy attempting to destroy our forces whilst we are safe in the knowledge that with our superior numbers we won't run out of troops before they run out of power" Night-stalker finished and looked questioningly towards the two Generals. "Or have I just missed the point entirely?"

"You are correct with your supposition" answered Obsidian.

"That's obscene," exclaimed Stormchaser, disgusted with what he had just heard. "That wasn't any part of the plan that we discussed" He began edging towards the Cybertronian Generals again but stopped when he saw Dive-bomber begin to advance towards him.

"I'm afraid we can't have you interfering with the control of this operation," said Night-stalker, his chair rotating to face the Maximal Elder. "Now, as long as you continue to merely remain as an advisor and don't get directly involved with our colleagues, as was agreed, then you can remain otherwise I will have no choice but to order Dive-bomber to remove you from the Command Centre, is that understood?" Stormchaser glared at Night-stalker, his optics glowing brightly as he studied the Predacons features. After what seemed like megacycles he scoffed and turned towards Lightfire who moved towards his leader and began conversing in hushed tones. Night-stalker turned towards Dive-bomber and nodded slightly. Dive-bomber acknowledged and moved towards a nearby console and began speaking into it. Night-stalker returned his attention to the screen before him.

            Starstrike watched the events of the battle on the massive viewer before his throne. Everything was going perfectly. He watched as both the Maximals and the Predacons threw all of their military forces into the battle against the Decepticons. It was pitiful really, the Decepticons were slaughtering them. Still, they would need to refuel soon. No doubt that was Obsidian and Strika's plan. He smiled. It wouldn't take Shockwave long to realise what was happening and make alternative arrangements. It didn't matter who the victor was at the end of this little skirmish anyway, he thought, in the end they would all fall to him.

            Shockwave surveyed the battlefield. The Decepticons were winning and though the ease with which they were winning was to be expected against such a pitiful enemy there was something amiss. He checked through all available data. Suddenly he realized the enemy's plan. Turning to Soundwave he commanded,

"Order all forces to reduce power to weapons by thirty percent _immediately_"

"As you command Shockwave" came the reply as Soundwave transmitted Shockwaves command to the other Decepticons. Acknowledging signals were interrupted by,

"Tell Shockwave to blow it out of his exhaust, we're having a demolition derby" Shockwave immediately recognised the voice of Dragstrip and opened communication with the Stunticon.

"You're response is illogical" he began. "You will be able to continue to function properly and destroy as many Predacons and Maximals as at present however it will reduce your power usage until we receive reinforcements and are able to recharge" Silence followed for a short time before a crackly voice responded with,

"Understood" Shockwave deactivated his communicator and returned to the battle.

            The aid stood next to Starstrike's throne and frowned. His leader seemed to be enjoying what he saw on the screen, but to his optics all he could see was the Predacon force being completely wiped out. He had followed Starstrike since he had gained power within the Predacon Council. He had seen him completely change the way in which the Predacon military operated. He had seen the Council, through Starstrike's leadership become stronger than the puppet government that they had been created to be by the Predacon Intelligence Agency. And now he watched as the army that the Council had created was being completely eradicated before it had had a chance to be used to regain control of Cybertron from the Maximals. It made him feel sick. He couldn't decide which disturbed him more, seeing the slaughter on the viewer or the glint of enjoyment in his leaders optics.

"What?" came the voice next to him. He looked over at Starstrike and noticed that his leader was staring at him, his crimson optics glowing brightly.

"Nothing Lord Starstrike" he answered and prayed to Primus that his leader wouldn't push for an answer.

"Speak freely" began Starstrike. "If you have a problem I really want to know" Something in his leaders tone sent a shiver through him, or was it the sadistic smirk that Starstrike now wore.

"Lord Starstrike…" began the aid. How was he supposed to tell him how he felt? He noticed Starstrike's lips curl upwards even further. "Perhaps we should consider withdrawing our forces before we suffer losses with which will make our final plan unworkable?" the aid finally finished. Starstrike paused then let out a piercing cackle and the aid instinctively took a step backwards.

"Whose plan would become unworkable? My plan is working perfectly," Starstrike stated. "But just to be sure that all the pieces are in their correct places" he pressed a button on the control board in front of him. The aid eyed the control with suspicion. Starstrike looked back at the aid and saw the fear in his optics. "Don't concern yourself, enjoy the preview, the main performance is about to begin"

            Night-stalker watched the battle waging below. All his enemies were being crushed and soon the Predacon Intelligence Agency would come to the fore and reclaim Cybertron from the Maximals and restore the Predacons rightful place. The Decepticons were a page in their history, but it was now time for the Predacons to rise to dominance. He cut his own thoughts short as something else ran through his neural processor, not _all_ his enemies were down there. Somewhere, most likely on this ship, _his_ ship, someone had informed Obsidian of the disk that had information on the Decepticons forces. Of course it would have been prudent to allow limited access to some of the information but not all. Some had to be kept secret. Without secrets how would one be able to have the controlling position? He looked around the room quickly, he saw possible enemies everywhere. The Maximals: Stormchaser, Nightflight, Lightfire, even Cheetor could have betrayed him. No, it couldn't have been them. For starters they didn't even have prior information about the operation, let alone know that that information was now on board his vessel. Not only that but they were to stupid to realise what they could do with the information even if they did know about it, no it wasn't them not _this_ time. Then who? The Predacon Generals perhaps? Not likely, they were to far up their own camshafts to notice anything going on around them. They were proper military units, all brawn and no brains. One of his crew, one of his _handpicked_ crew, maybe? But who? Very few of them knew about everything that happened on board this ship, let alone what happened outside of their set jurisdiction. Well, all except Dive-bomber. But then would he really be so stupid as to make two massive mistakes in one day? Loyal to the Predacon cause he might be, but so stupid as to, even accidentally, let slip restricted information to a possible enemy? Not likely really, still, after his little stunt with the Predacon Council could he be completely trusted? Admittedly he did have Darkfire pulling his strings, even though he didn't realise it the fool, but even he wouldn't let slip to a non-Predacon, would he? If, this once, he allowed his friendship to cloud his mind then that left only one more possibility, the bug. Waspinator was on board his ship. He had complete access to the information because _he_ was the one who retrieved it. It had to be him, didn't it? No, now is not the time to start second-guessing yourself. The bug is the most obvious traitor; he had even been heard complaining about his position when he thought no one was listening. Idiot, we're always listening, he thought. That was it, it had to be. It had to be, didn't it?

            Dive-bomber had finished informing security to send a few 'bots to the Command Centre as Night-stalker had instructed. They probably wouldn't be needed but then who was to say, these were strange times. It had been so simple before; there were Maximals and Predacons, nothing more. Then the internal Predacon revolution happened. The infant Intelligence Agency had overthrown the many Predacon Councils, including the Tripredacus Council, and had set up a puppet Council in which to rule behind. Simple. Now there were so many plots to overthrow the Maximals from the Agency, plus they were forced to keep the Council in line as well as maintain some form of credence within the Maximal Elders Council and now they had Decepticons to deal with. Dive-bomber was interrupted from his thoughts by a beeping sound coming from the console in front of him. Funny, he thought, it looked like they had an incoming transmission but it wasn't an Agency or any other known Cybertronian code. Decepticon maybe? Unlikely as they wouldn't be trying to contact anybody on this ship, they shouldn't even know its here. He did a check and found that it wasn't even being sent through the standard communications array but rather to an individual within the ship. He attempted to track it. It led to, oh slag. Night-stalker will want to know about this, he thought, and he turned to inform his commander.

            Night-stalker thought that he had finally come to a conclusion about who the traitor was. Yes, it had to be the bug. It had affected his plan momentarily and he had been thrown but he would deal with the small problem and then his plan would return to how he had set it out, simple. His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed Dive-bomber next to him.

"What?" he asked.

"I think you may want to have a look at this" Dive-bomber replied. Something in his voice told Night-stalker that this wasn't going to be good news. He followed Dive-bomber over to the console.

"Well?" he pushed. Dive-bomber motioned towards what was on the screen. " A transmission? From where? To Who?"

"Source is unknown but it was directed towards this ship, or more precisely someone on board this ship" Night-stalkers eyes glowed briefly.

"Where's the bug?" Dive-bomber paused and looked a little sheepish. "Well?" pressed Night-stalker.

"We, don't know," admitted Dive-bomber.

"You don't know. How can you not know, there isn't very far he can get without any access codes. Did you think about checking the room where we left him?"

"Well he sort of…" trailed off Dive-bomber.

"Sort of what?" demanded Night-stalker.

"Sort of entered an air duct and we lost him" Dive-bomber finally admitted.

"An air duct" repeated Night-stalker, his purple optics boring into Dive-bomber. Dive-bomber just looked down so he didn't have to make optic contact with his superior. "And how did he get into the duct?" he asked, though he felt he probably already knew the answer.

"Well he's a bit smaller than the standard 'bot and so with a little work he just squeezed through a gap" Night-stalker just stared at Dive-bomber in disbelief.

"And you didn't put a guard on him?" he asked.

"We had a guard, two in fact" nodded Dive-bomber enthusiastically.

"And so where were they when he escaped?"

"Outside the door" he answered, his voice dropping again. Night-stalker just stared deadpan at Dive-bomber for a moment.

"And should I ask when he disappeared?"

"Just after we detected the transmission" Night-stalker just nodded slowly.

"And do we have any idea what the transmission said?" Dive-bombers lack of response gave Night-stalker his answer. Night-stalker moved towards Dive-bomber and placing an arm over his shoulders said, "I want you to do two things. One, decrypt this message; I don't care how you do it just do it. Two, find the bug. Try not to kill it as I can see a little interrogation coming on, okay" Dive-bomber nodded. "Good" finished Night-stalker and began to stalk back over to his chair. This was all I needed, he thought. A rogue bug and a stupid second in command, just when I thought my plans might start going right again. What else can go wrong?

"Sir" came a voice to his right. Night-stalker turned slowly, a murderous glint in his optic.

"Yes?" he asked, as calmly as he could.

"You may want to see this" Night-stalker stepped up next to the communications officer. "This is a picture coming through from one of our orbiting satellites" He looked into the monitor and saw a picture that could possibly be the downfall for the entire military operation below.

"Inform Obsidian and Strika that their plans will need modifying," he returned his gaze to the screen. "Decepticon reinforcements are on their way"

Ok, so this was shorter than originally intended because I have split what was to be one chapter into at least two, hopefully it'll make it easier to read (also because it just seemed like a good place to finish)

Does anybody know if you're allowed to put character profiles up as separate stories? because I thought as there were so many oc's in this fic that a separate area where I can put up profiles for each would be good, and so that it didn't interrupt directly into this fic. I ask because I was informed you weren't allowed but I'm sure I've read one or two.

Anyway please leave a review or e-mail me or both! Yeah why not both!


	9. My enemies enemy

Disclaimer: Transformers and all related merchandising and logos are the property of Hasbro, Takara, et al. I own nothing except the few characters that I made up (Night-stalker etc) and so, sadly, make no money from writing this.

This chapter was written at the same time as writing my Dissertation for uni, so if there are any problems, that's probably why, and also answers why it took me so long to update!

Questions, queries, comments please feel free to e-mail me. Otherwise, read and review!

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            Shockwave, again, reduced the power to his weapon. He had reduced his weapon power by seventy-five percent and, although was still powerful enough to destroy his enemies, he was now unable to transform into his space gun mode and attack the large transport craft that continued to unload Maximal and Predacon forces, which in turn meant that even more Maximals and Predacons were moving into the area unhindered. Around him he had seen Thrust and Ramjet forced to transform back into their robot modes and land, as they were unable to provide enough power to their engines. Blitzwing was limiting himself to his tank mode as it required only limited power and still allowed him three hundred and sixty degree targeting. Soundwave had reduced power to his weapons as had Rumble, Frenzy and Ravage, though they were not struggling in the same way due to their smaller size and comparatively low energy requirements. The Constructicons were unable to form Devastator due to the amount of power it required to maintain the magnetic connections. Ahead of him he had just witnessed Bruticus come apart as the Combaticons lost the ability to maintain cohesion and had been forced to withdraw. He looked to his left and witnessed Spectro blinding the Maximals attacking him whilst Spyglass and Viewfinder fired at the them, the three bots that formed the single mind of Reflector appeared to be one of the few who still had power enough to maintain a distinct advantage over the attacking Maximals and Predacons. Soundwave had also lost all contact with the Stunticons so they now had no information on whether they were still functioning, though the odds of their destruction was less than zero point zero five percent. They were also unable to gain contact with Astrotrain until he reached within Cybertron's lower atmosphere as, again, they didn't have the power. Their only air cover was now being provided by Dirge, Buzzsaw, Laserbeak and Ratbat, and Dirge especially was having power problems. Was it possible, Shockwave thought, that he had underestimated the resistance that the Predacons and Maximals would put up against them and that there was a possibility of them losing to their descendants?

            "Face it, we're doomed" stated Deadend. The Stunticons were all in their robot modes, except Breakdown who was currently stuck in his automotive mode due to lack of power, and were facing off against a growing number of Maximals and Predacons who were steadily beginning to encircle them. They were currently in the ruins of the city that had stood here before their return to Cybertron and so were using the remains of what was probably once a very large, very important building in order to provide them with limited cover. They had also lost all contact with any of the other Decepticons and were unsure whether it was because of lack of power or whether their radio frequencies had been jammed, it seemed unlikely that they had been destroyed but then who just a few short breems ago would have thought that they would have been in the position that they were now currently in.

"Don't be such a pessimist" shouted Wildrider. "These nanites don't know what's hit 'em" he closed this off by firing a few rounds into the encircling throng.

"Yeah, its not as if their weapons can harm us anyway" added Dragstrip.

"And when we run out of power? They won't need weapons, just a cutting tool," replied Deadend sombrely.

"Shut up whining 'n just shoot 'em," commanded Motormaster. "We weren't beaten by the Autobots and I'll be slagged if I'm beaten by those critters" Deadend merely nodded solemnly and continued to fire at the closing Maximals. Above them two optics watched the battle briefly, then turned back to make his report.

            "Ratbat returns Shockwave" Soundwave's monotone echoed over the sound of laser fire.

"What is his report?" questioned Shockwave.

"He has found the Stunticons. They are currently surrounded approximately half a mega mile North East of our current position in the ruins of the Maximal city"

"Order Dirge to bombard the Predacon and Maximal forces in that area and send Ratbat to order the Stunticons to return here"

"As you command Shockwave"

            "Bombard? He must be joking. I've barely enough power to shoot these flying scrap piles let alone bombard those on the ground," complained Dirge. Buzzsaw and Laserbeak flanked the larger Decepticon jet as they flew in the direction of the Stunticons.

"Do you wanna tell Shockwave or should I?" asked Buzzsaw barely able to contain a chuckle. He and Laserbeak weren't having the power problems that the others were having due to their smaller size and energy requirements. Dirge just muttered something incomprehensible and continued avoiding laser fire from aerial Maximals and Predacons, though their weapons couldn't do him any direct harm if they hit his engines he could be in trouble.

"Targets sighted. Fifteen degrees below" squawked Laserbeak.

"Well, here goes nothing," moaned Dirge as he pitched into a dive, followed by the two cassettes. As they approached the Stunticons they opened fire on the surrounding Maximals, who attempted to dive out of the way. As they flew past Buzzsaw dove down low and grabbed one of the Maximals by his shoulders and hoisted him into the air. Laserbeak looked at the gold and black Condor with a puzzled look. Buzzsaw just laughed. "Who need weapons when we can just shatter them?" He shot upwards, spun in midair into a dive and released his captive just before pulling out of his dive a few feet above the ground. A muffled scream was heard as the Maximals' chassis contorted upon impact as Buzzsaw flew away cackling.

            "Ouch, that's gotta hurt" Dragstrip said turning to Wildrider.

"Yep, it's got to be said Buzzsaw definitely knows about finesse," replied Wildrider, a grin on his face. "Lets see if we can't send any more to join him on the scrap pile, eh?"

"It's more likely to be us joining him," answered Deadend.

"If you don't shut up I'll make sure _you_ join 'em" shouted Motormaster.

"Please do, at least then I wouldn't have to put up with your annoying vocals in my audio receptors," challenged Deadend. Motormaster turned, his sword ready for a final swipe when Ratbat interrupted him.

"Shockwave orders you to return to the tunnel entrance" Motormaster glared at Deadend, then Ratbat. After a short pause he commanded,

"Stunticons transform"

"How?" asked Deadend. "The whole point of us still being here is because we don't have any power"

"Then how else are we meant to get back to Shockwave?" asked Wildrider.

"Ever thought of using those large metal things attached to your lower torso? It's quite interesting really. You place one in front of the other in a walking motion and you move" answered Ratbat sarcastically.

"That'll take ages," moaned Dragstrip.

"Well, you got any better ideas?" asked Deadend.

"Maybe" grinned Dragstrip.

            "Yee, haw" cried Wildrider, riding on Breakdowns roof. Ahead of him Motormaster was in his semi truck mode with a length of metal coil attached to his rear axle that was in turn connected to Breakdowns' front bumper. On top of his trailer rode Deadend and Dragstrip, who were firing at the Maximals and Predacons as they passed.

"This is so humiliating," complained Breakdown.

"Would you rather we had left you?" queried Wildrider. He was met with no response. Wildrider just smirked and continued to fire at the Maximals and Predacons.

            Night-stalker cursed under his breath. Behind him he could hear Stormchaser congratulating everyone on a mission that he thought almost complete. The Decepticons currently on the surface were being beaten back and Stormchaser was now acting as if it was his idea all along and that he hadn't at all been against Obsidian and Strika's plan. Typical politician. It didn't help that the battle itself was far from over as satellites had detected what looked to be Astrotrain on a direct course for Cybertron and he would be entering the atmosphere within a few cycles. Obsidian and Strika had, of course, been informed directly so that neither Stormchaser nor any of the Generals could interfere. Not only that but he had the problem of having a possible traitor loose on his ship and no one could find where he was. If it isn't one thing its another, thought Night-stalker sombrely. He was interrupted from his thoughts by some noises behind him. As he turned he saw Cheetor walking towards the lift at the back of the Command Centre. Night-stalker scowled.

"Where do you think you're going?" he questioned turning towards the taller Maximal. He wasn't happy about the thought of any of the Maximals walking around his ship, let alone Cheetor as he was sure that he would be able to get himself into some trouble, and more problems was something that he didn't need.

"He's returning to the quarters that you gave us earlier to recharge. As the battle seems almost over there didn't seem any point for him to still be here" answered Stormchaser before Cheetor could speak. Night-stalker turned his head to glare at the Maximal Elder, his optics glowing brightly.

"And who said that he could walk around on _my_ ship without an escort?" snapped Night-stalker. Stormchaser's lips turned upwards into a smirk.

"I did. We're all on the same side here" Stormchaser answered, his arms swinging open in a gesture to encapsulate all in the room whilst at the same time never losing optic contact with the Predacon. Night-stalker's faceplate visibly relaxed and his customary smile slowly spread across his features, an evil glint in his optics.

"Very well" agreed Night-stalker turning to look at Cheetor. "You may recharge. However I would hate that you should get lost," before Cheetor could argue Night-stalker clicked his fingers and the aide who had previously escorted the Maximals stepped up behind Night-stalker. "Please would you take our guest to recharging bed 17" looking at Cheetor his smile grew into more of a sadistic smirk. "I believe that this will provide you with a better charge, as well as allowing you to rest as I believe that your technorganic components require 'sleep'?" Cheetor just turned towards the lift followed by the Predacon aide. As the lift doors slid closed Night-stalker turned back to the console behind him. Hopefully that should be one problem out of the way.

            Cheetor scowled. He didn't want nor need to recharge. He had hoped to be able to find a shuttle, or something, get off this ship and hopefully find his friends. What he didn't need now was to be chauffeured around by this Predacon guard. He looked at the Predacon standing next to him. He was completely ignoring Cheetor; an air of imposed self-superiority surrounded him. Cheetor slowly moved his hands behind his back and took hold of one of his swords. As the lift doors opened the Predacon began to move forward. Noticing that Cheetor wasn't following he turned and was about to tell the Maximal to move, but he was cut short as Cheetor brought the butt of his sword down on the back of the Predacons neck, sending a power surge through his data-core. The Predacon slumped to floor unconscious, the armour on the back of his neck cracked where Cheetor had hit it. Re-sheathing his sword he edged out of the lift pushing the Predacons unconscious form back inside the lift so as to allow the doors to close. He moved down the corridor attempting to find a computer terminal that would tell him where he was and how to find the shuttle bay, assuming of course that this ship had a shuttle bay. He paused as he heard voices coming from ahead. He looked about him and saw an unmarked door. The voices were continuing to move closer and Cheetor decided that his only chance was to go through the door, no matter where it led. He stepped up to it and with a hiss it opened. He ducked inside just as the approaching Predacons came round the corner, the door closing before they saw him. He looked around the room. It was small, with large banks of computers around the edge. What looked to be a large power core was in the centre of the room, and a soft thrumming sound echoed from it. He was about to move towards one of the consoles when he heard a low buzzing coming from what looked to be an air duct to his left. He moved as far into the furthest corner as he could, unsheathing a sword as he did so and waited, his optics transfixed on the duct.

            Waspinator was feeling depressed, not that that was anything unusual recently but still he was feeling more down than usual. He was onboard of a Predacon Intelligence Agency ship and had 'broken' out of the room that he had been ordered to stay in. Not only that but he had received orders directly from the head of Predacon Council that he was to find a way of damaging, or at least deactivating the cloaking device of the ship he was currently on. Sounded great, except that he had to find a way off this ship before he was going to do anything otherwise he knew that he would perish when the Decepticons attacked. He knew where the shuttle bay was, however his small size negated his ability to pilot the craft. He could attempt to open the shuttle bay doors and fly out himself, but if he was caught in the cross fire between the Maximal/Predacon forces and the Decepticons he would most likely be vaporised. Not something he wanted to happen. His small size, however, had allowed him to escape through the air ducts and so give him a chance of completing his mission, he had no doubt that the Agency agents had detected that he was no longer in the room they had left him in which probably meant that right now he was being hunted by almost the entire crew of this ship. Why universe hate Waspinator? He thought. He entered what should be the cloaking device control regulation chamber. He knew that because encased within the message that he had received from the Council was a schematic of the class of vessel he was currently in. He looked about the room. Computer banks lined the edges of the small chamber, and what he assumed was the cloaking devices power supply thrummed in the centre of the room, a deep blue light emanating from the centre cylindrical core. As he continued to survey the room he noticed a hand cover his entire body. Slag, he thought, caught.

            Cheetor opened his hand and to his surprise he was brought face to face with Waspinator, though his head had remained as the Vehicon Thrust even on his micro-sized technorganic body. The look of shock in Waspinator's optics almost made Cheetor laugh but instead he asked,

"What the slag are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? Shouldn't I be azzking you that, cat-bot?" replied Waspinator, now hovering just in front of Cheetors optics.

"I asked first" Cheetor pushed, threateningly. He backed up the threat by brandishing his unsheathed sword. Waspinator was forced to think fast.

"Attempting to find a way off thiz ship," he answered quickly.

"And why would a Predacon be trying to escape from a Predacon ship I wonder?" Waspinator smiled.

"Why would a Maxzimal be on a Predacon ship?" Cheetor was, for a moment, dumbfounded. Waspinator had never been one for a quick reply all through the Beast Wars and now here he was holding his own in a war of words.

"Well what stops me from squatting you now like the bug you are?"

"'Cause I know a way off thiz ship," answered Waspinator triumphantly.

"And what makes you think I want off this ship?" Cheetor asked, rather concerned that Waspinator knew anything.

"'Cause otherwize you would zztill be in the command centre," answered Waspinator. He was very glad that he had checked who was on board the ship when he had first arrived. Many thought that he wasn't very bright, but whoever had trained the guard was just damn right idiotic, though seeing Cheetor in the cloaking device regulation chamber had been a surprise he hadn't expected

"Okay, fine. I want off this ship. And like you're gonna help me?"

"Of courzze" answered Waspinator. "Cause I need your help to fly the shuttle. Not big enough you zee" he highlighted this by opening his arms wide. Cheetor had to suppress a chuckle, but he quickly reminded himself who he was talking to. Again he had to suppress a chuckle.

"Okay. If you can get me off this ship then lead on" said Cheetor edging towards the door.

"Not yet cat-bot, have zzumthing to do firzt," said Waspinator moving towards one of the consoles at the far side of the room.

"What are you gonna do?" asked Cheetor suspiciously. Even though Waspinator had said he was going to help him he didn't trust the bug at all.

"Gonna make it zzo we can leave" lied the bug, accessing the computer core. He knew most of the security codes because not only was he a Predacon but he was also an Agency agent. "There, that should do it" he finished triumphantly, flying towards the door.

"Do what?" asked Cheetor. Waspinator hovered in front of Cheetors optics and grinned.

"Let uzz leave" he said, and flew towards the door. Cheetor followed slowly giving one last look at the computer that the bug had just been working on.

            Astrotrain could feel the increase in temperature of his outer plating as he began to enter Cybertron's outer atmosphere. No matter what the Predacons and Maximals had done to the planet, it was still home and Astrotrain enjoyed the feeling of returning. Inside his rear compartment he could feel his cargo shuffling around. At least I'll be rid of them soon enough. When Shockwave had planned this mission those many Vorns ago he should never have included them, he thought. But then, who back then thought that the Decepticons and Autobots would, to all intents and purposes, be an extinct species replaced by micro-sized pieces of scrap that were struggling to protect themselves from only a limited number of Decepticons. Astrotrain wondered how they would have reacted if they were put against the original Decepticon army before the Great War. It would have been a massacre, not that he was expecting anything less now.

"Astrotrain to Soundwave, come in Soundwave" he had entered the atmosphere and as arranged opened communications. Funny, he thought, no response just static. "Astrotrain to Soundwave answer, over" Again nothing but static. Something was wrong, but he wasn't sure what and he hated it. Ahead of him his sensors detected craft approaching at speed. He checked his scans, no Decepticon signatures detected. Slag, he thought. He activated the comm link into his main compartment. "Hold on to something guys, its about to get bumpy"

            "Maximal Wing Delta Omega reports that they have engaged the incoming Decepticon" Obsidian informed Strika.

"Incoming Decepticon?" asked Stormchaser, suddenly alarmed. "What incoming Decepticon?"

"The one that's about to be attacked" answered Night-stalker without turning away from his console. "Now do shut up, that's a good fellow" Stormchaser glared at Night-stalkers back, the Predacon not even giving him the satisfaction of allowing him to look him in the optics.

"Maximal Wing kappa Delta also in position and beginning attack run" continued Obsidian.

"The Decepticon is attempting to communicate with those on the ground," said one of the Predacons at the communications console.

"Is he receiving a response?" questioned Strika.

"Negative, no transmissions detected from those on the surface" answered the Predacon.

"Good" Strika replied. "Any information on production of Vehicon drones?" Another Predacon turned from his console.

"Drone production continuing. Approximately 2000 completed"

"Classification?"

"Ratio approximately 60:40 ground assault"

"Very well. Order drones to position Omega four and prepare for assault"

"Understood"

"But what about the incoming Decepticon?" began Stormchaser. "Are you sure that you've sent enough forces to deal with him?"

"Depends," answered Obsidian bluntly.

"Depends! Depends on what?" Stormchaser almost screamed. The lack of any proper response form the two Generals was infuriating. He could tell that they had been rebuilt by the Predacons.

"Depends on whether he is alone" Stormchaser paused considering what Obsidian had said.

"And if he isn't?" he finally asked.

"Then Primus help us all" Night-stalker echoed from his console.

            Night-stalker smiled to himself. What he just said to Stormchaser may well be true, but Stormchaser really did believe all that religious mumbo-jumbo and no doubt was now praying to Primus. He was interrupted from his thoughts by Dive-bomber stepping up next to him.

"What?" he snapped harshly, turning towards his lieutenant.

"I've got some good news and some bad news," said Dive-bomber, instinctively preparing himself for Night-stalkers rage. Night-stalker glared at him, his purple optics glowing brightly.

"Well?" he pushed. Dive-bomber decided to give what good news he had first, hoping to soften the blow he would receive from his superior.

"We've been able to decrypt at least part of the message that was sent to someone on board the ship" Night-stalker just stared at Dive-bomber forcing him to continue. "It seems to give an order for some kind of sabotage, though we are still unsure as to what system it is that is to be sabotaged" Night-stalker scowled.

"Is this the good news or the bad news?" he asked. He watched as Dive-bombers face dropped. Slag, he thought, but remained silent in order to allow his lieutenant to continue.

"I'm sorry to report that most of the internal security systems shut down approximately five cycles ago"

"And why wasn't I informed?" asked Night-stalker, anger clearly evident in his voice.

"Because at that moment in time we weren't sure that it was anything to be concerned about but…" Dive-bomber was cut off by another Predacon stepping up next to him.

"Sir" began the tech.

"What?" snapped Night-stalker, his patience wearing thin.

"We just got a report from one of our security patrols looking for the traitor"

"And?" Night-stalker was growing impatient. Was his crew always this incompetent, or was it just something in the air?

"They found an unconscious body, and no sign of the Maximal" Night-stalker cursed under his breath.

"And we have no way to track him" Night-stalker finished for the tech. The tech remained silent. Night-stalker shook his head, then turned to Dive-bomber. "Find Cheetor and the traitor. Do whatever's necessary, and bring them here. Whatever happens, we're having an interrogation and most likely an execution soon"

"And the other Maximals" asked Dive-bomber. Night-stalker smiled.

"Leave them to me"

            Cheetor crept down another corridor. He could hear footsteps behind him but couldn't move any faster because he was desperately trying to keep in optic contact with Waspinator. Considering the bug was flying, he moved awfully slowly. He hated having to follow him but, as was, he was his best, and probably only chance of getting off this ship.

"Come on" he whispered forcefully at the bug. "Move it or we'll both get caught"

"You maybe not me" answered the Predacon. "I'm small enough to hide almozzst anywhere"

"If they get me, d'you really think I won't tell them where you are?"

"Why cat-bot not like Wazzpinator?"

"D'you wanna list?" Waspinator ignored the Maximal and continued flying forwards. After a short time he turned.

"Here" he said triumphantly. Cheetor walked up to the door and it slid silently open. Before him he could see a large hanger with three small, black craft. Each one had a streamlined front linking directly into delta wings. It reminded him somewhat of the Decepticon seekers in their original guises, though much chunkier and rounder. He stepped up to one, hoping to find an entrance hatch. He looked around the whole craft then turned to Waspinator.

"Okay, so how do we get in?" he asked. Waspinator smiled.

"See, cat-bot need Waspinator now" he said smugly. He flew to the rear of the craft, and seemed to just fly through the wall. Cheetor stepped up to follow, but just bounced off with a loud 'clang'. Inside he could hear Waspinator sniggering.

"What's so funny?" he snapped.

"Did cat-bot really think it would be that eazzy to get in?" he questioned. Cheetor remained silent. After a few nano-klics a whirring sound emanated from the rear of the shuttle and a large entrance hatch lowered. Cheetor stepped inside. It was extremely cramped, with no thought of aesthetics. There was a control board at the front, which looked out through the large windscreen at the front. The only light was emanating from the few control panels on the side of the ship, and that which could come through the front window. As he stepped inside, the hatch closed. He sat in the only chair in the small craft and saw Waspinator hover up next to him.

"Okay" he asked. "How did you get in?" Waspinator smiled at the Maximal.

"Trade zzecret" he answered. Figuring that he was never going to get an answer to his question, he busied himself with activating the shuttles systems.

"How long does it take for one of these things to heat up?" he asked.

"Not long," answered the Predacon. "However, it takes more time for the cloaking device to come online. Until then we better not leave the ship or we're both dead" Cheetor decided it was better not to argue with the Predacon.

            Astrotrain again shook with the force of the explosion that just missed his starboard wing. He was still not receiving a signal from Soundwave, but continued to the rendezvous point nonetheless.

"How much longer do we have to put up with this, with this" came a voice from Astrotrains cargo hold.

"If you want to get out now," replied Astrotrain.

"Open the hatch then" said another. Astrotrain did as requested, and opened the side hatch of his shuttle mode.

"Excellent. Lets show these microbes what we're made of, made of"

"Insecticons, attack"

Again, shorter than originally planned, but hey thought you might like to read a little more!

If anybody could answer about the character profiles thing, it would be most appreciated as FF.net still haven't (surprisingly) got back to me.

I was asked if I would put down the allegiances of my OC's so here goes:

Night-stalker: Predacon/PIA operative, Dive-bomber: Predacon/PIA operative, Stormchaser: Maximal (Elder), Nightflight: Maximal, Lightfire: Maximal. Hope that's helpful!

One more thing, it probably won't change anything I write in future chapters (the story mostly planned out in my mind) but just out of interest, who is your favourite/Least favourite out of my OC's and why? Would you like to see one die? 

Anyhew, please leave a review. Cheers!


	10. Return of the SlagMaker

Disclaimer: Transformers and all related merchandising are the property of a few big, rich companies, all of whom will never give me anything. I do however own some characters within this story (Night-stalker etc) and am fiercely protective over them. For any information on my character please read Histories Revenge OC Profiles (also to be found on this site).

Questions, queries, comments please feel fee to e-mail me or to put into the review. Thanks.

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            Night-stalker looked into the small console viewer and his face dropped. He saw seven distinct shapes leap from Astrotrain, some of them transforming into what looked to be giant insects. He had expected that Astrotrain would be carrying reinforcements, but he had hoped that he was mistaken. Slag, this meant that it was also highly unlikely that Obsidian and Strika's plan would work now, as long as he remembered his history correctly, because the Insecticons could gain power by directly ingesting substances. This could be a very costly battle indeed.

            "And we're called bugs, these creatures are tiny" called Bombshell.

"True, but they are the perfect size for a light snack, snack" added Shrapnel catching a flying Maximal as it passed and tore off one its wings with relish, its cries of pain merely increasing his enjoyment.

"Stop thinking with your stomach and come on, we've got bigger things to destroy," commanded Venom pointing towards the ground and a throng of charging Maximals. Turning back to the others he commanded, "Ransack, Bombshell, Barrage keep these creatures away from Astrotrain. The rest of you follow me" He dived towards the ground, the other three Insecticons following after. Bombshell turned to Ransack and Barrage.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked moving to follow Astrotrain, firing at the flying Maximals and Predacons as he went. Ransack and Barrage took the queue and followed their compatriot.

            Starstrike grinned. It was definitely clear that the Decepticons weren't going to go down without a fight, not that he thought that they would, but with the timely arrival of Astrotrain and the Insecticons they would only help to create even more mayhem. It would soon be time to bring the next stage of his plan into operation.

            "How long until we reach the ground, I need to get out and stretch my servos" came a whine from inside Astrotrains hold.

 "You are capable of flying, if you don't like the accommodation get out" answered Astrotrain, he was sick of being used as nothing more than a cargo shuttle.

"You know if I'm hit with all this fuel on board that we might as well give up now" came the reply.

"Why? Its not as if we don't have enough energon cubes back here, what do we need you for" came a second voice from Astrotrains cargo compartment.

"Yeah, its not as if you're any help once you unload your fuel any way" added another.

"I could deal with the pair of you if I needed to" challenged the first voice.

"Promises, promises" the other two chorused.

"If you three don't pipe down now I'll eject the lot of you" answered Astrotrain. "I don't see what you're still doing on board any way, you were complaining that you hadn't seen any action for ages earlier and now you have your chance you're just sitting around doing nothing"

"I never thought I'd say it, but he's got a point. How far are we from the rendezvous point?"

"About twelve mega-miles" Astrotrain informed the voice.

"Nice, I think abandoning now would be a great idea. If we transform it wouldn't take us long to get there even without flying and we could have some fun on the way, what d'ya think Runabout?"

"Good idea Runamuck lets join our Insectobuddies"

"You can join those flying bugs if you want. I'm gonna smash some Maxi hide" With that the two Battlechargers leapt from Astrotrains still open side hatch.

"You not joining them Octane?" Astrotrain inquired, hopefully.

"You've gotta be kidding if I'm gettin' involved with those two if I can help it. Nah, I think I'll stay and keep you company old buddy"

"I'm touched," Astrotrain answered sarcastically.

"I knew you would be," replied Octane cheerfully.

            "Fraggin' idiots, they'll get us all killed," complained Chopshop as Runamuck and Runabout skimmed past him as they transformed into their respective vehicle modes and hit the ground rolling.

"What do you expect? Neither of them exactly rates highly on the intellect meter" answered Venom. "You've got to remember, they're just Decepticons"

"True, but even most Decepticons have a little more common sense, sense," added Shrapnel.

"You've got to be joking. The only Decepticon I know with any sense is Shockwave, and he's not exactly a barrel of laughs now is he" replied Venom.

"What about Soundwave?" enquired Kickback. "Admitted, still no fun but he's definitely intelligent"

"Maybe it's a Decepticon trait, trait? They can only be intelligent if they're boring, boring"

"I don't really care. I wasn't complaining about Shockwave or Soundwave, I was complaining about those two fools," muttered Chopshop.

"Don't concern yourself with them, they're of no consequence. Just deal with these rodents first," Venom commanded motioning towards the Maximals.

"Spoilsport" complained Chopshop and joined Kickback attacking a group of Maximals who were attempting to take cover behind a large tree-like growth. Shrapnel leapt on the plant in his lamellicorn mode and began biting huge chunks out of it.

"Hmmm, tastes similar to those redwoods on Earth, Earth" he muttered.

"Preferred the pines myself," added Kickback, "more neutrons" The two Insecticons laughed at their private joke as the others continued to attack the Maximals. 

Laserbeak swooped low over the ground, avoiding enemy fire, before finally landing on Soundwave's shoulder and squawked in his audio receptor before taking flight again and continuing to attack the Maximals and Predacons. Shockwave turned to hear the report.

"Astrotrain approaches, Shockwave. The Insecticons and Battlechargers have already begun their assault" Soundwave said turning towards his commander.

"Excellent. Has Astrotrain made contact?"

"Unknown. Insufficient power to relay signal" Astrotrain couldn't arrive too soon. The Decepticons were struggling to hold their own against the growing throng of Maximals and Predacons that were in the area. Luckily there hadn't been any new transports arriving for a while, but that didn't necessarily mean that there wouldn't be any.

"Astrotrain had better get down here soon, else we're gonna start having real problems" muttered Motormaster.

"_Start_ having real problems?" began Deadend. "Have you been fighting somewhere the rest of us haven't? I'd say we're already having real problems"

"Yeah, my guns almost outta juice" added Wildrider.

"Shame its not you're mouth, with all that jibber jabber I'd 'ave thought _you'd_ be outta power by now" bellowed Brawl.

"Well with all the noise you make doing anything, I'm surprised you weren't a wasted carcass eons ago" snapped Wildrider.

"I just wish you'd all shut up, you're giving me a headache" moaned Thrust.

"I'll give you all a headache in a minute if you all don't shut it and shoot" threatened Ramjet.

"Yeah, you and what army" taunted Wildrider. Before Ramjet could answer he was interrupted by a massive explosion that blew the Stunticons and Thrust to the ground. Smiling Ramjet stood over the fallen Wildrider, his right blaster trained on the Stunticons chest plate.

"How's about that one"

"Looks like they've brought out the big guns" Swindle said, motioning towards the crater.

"How intuitive of you" answered Blastoff. "What ever made you think that?"

"You mean apart from the big hole in the ground?" grinned Swindle. Blastoff just shook his head and continued firing at the Maximals.

            "Maximal Storm-troopers in position and opening fire on Decepticon positions" reported Strika. Behind the two Vehicon Generals, Stormchaser allowed himself a wry smile. Maximal Storm-troopers were much more heavily armed than anything else they had down there, and though they would still have problems against fully energised Decepticons those below them, in their low fuel state, were a different matter. So, he thought, as I suspected it would be the Maximals who win the day _not_ the Predacons. Keeping them in check after this little problem might be easier than he had originally envisaged, though those new Decepticons could prove problematic, and from what he could work out from listening to Obsidian and Strika, those new 'Cons had split into about three different groups. Those Vehicons of theirs better turn up soon or this last phase of the battle wouldn't last long.

            "I hope you're ready for a bit of a bump on landing" Astrotrain informed Octane.

"With you driving I always expect a bump," replied Octane a slight grin on his face, even though Astrotrain couldn't see. Astrotrain tipped into a steep dive pulling into level flight just a few feet above the ground. Below him the wind sheer was knocking the Maximals and Predacons to the ground as they attempted to remain upright.

"Alright Bombshell, you and the other Insecticons can break off, I should make it easily from here"

"Understood Astrotrain" Bombshell answered through his communicator as he, Barrage and Ransack moved away and attacked a group of Maximals who were moving forward to assist those attacking the main Decepticon force. Astrotrain then transformed into his steam locomotive form and landed heavily on the ground, crushing any Maximals and Predacons unlucky enough to find themselves below him at the time.

"We should be with the main force in approximately 200 Astro-seconds" Astrotrain informed Octane.

"Sounds good, then we'll show these germs who controls this planet"

            It could hear the explosions happening on the surface above. Again the Decepticons were fighting a foe on their own planet, a foe that far outnumbered them. They would require their leader to once again lead them to victory, however he had been touched, damaged by the Chaos Bringer. Vector Sigma decided on its course of action. Before the supercomputer stood three whom the Bringer of Chaos had touched. They advanced towards the golden ball as if in a trance obeying some unheard command and stopped a pace away from the computer itself. Then three powerful bolts of directed energy struck the three Decepticons stood before it and the whole room was quickly filled with a powerful, blinding white light.

            "This is ridiculous, surely the cloaking device has powered up by now," muttered Cheetor. He was becoming impatient, and not a little nervous. Here he was stuck in a shuttle with, of all 'bots, Waspinator, onboard a cloaked Predacon ship, which no doubt had at least half the crew searching for them, in the middle of a battle with the Predacons ancestors, all of whom were thought destroyed, and no idea where any of his friends were, or even if they were functional. All in all, a pretty fun-packed day.

"Not long now, but we've got another problem" buzzed Waspinator. Typical, thought Cheetor, things couldn't just work easily could they?

"What now?" he asked pensively.

"We can't get the doorzz open," answered Waspinator motioning towards the main hanger doors.

"What do you mean we can't get the doors open?" cried Cheetor. "What was the fraggin' point of coming down here if we can't get out!"

"We could get out" huffed Waspinator, "but they changed the locks" 

Brilliant, just fraggin' brilliant, whatever next? On second thoughts I don't want to know, thought Cheetor, no doubt it would only make things more difficult. Just then out of the corner of his optic Cheetor noticed a movement. Looking out of the thickened glass viewer at the front of the shuttle he saw the door to the shuttle bay open. He grabbed Waspinator who yelped in shock, though his voice was muffled by Cheetors hand. Opening his palm Cheetor motioned towards the now open door, two Predacons in full view in the doorway their weapons held out in front of them scanning the room. Waspinator's head fell despondently, however after a short moment a wry grin spread across his face.

"I think I've got an idea" 

Cheetor cursed inwardly.

            Dive-bomber surveyed the progress of the search teams. Still no sign of the Maximal or the traitor, Night-stalker was not going to be happy. Well at least they couldn't escape through the shuttle bay; he'd given orders for the command codes to be changed so that the outer doors wouldn't open, but he really didn't need to be looking for runaways, it just made things all the more complicated and Dive-bomber hated complications. All he wanted was for things to go back to normal; he could just about cope with normality. The Predacons wanted to gain power back from the Maximals, the Maximals hated the Predacons and treated them as second-class citizens, and his job was to assist Night-stalker in the assassination of those Maximals and Predacons that made things more difficult for the Predacons to regain their rightful position as leaders of Cybertron, simple. Now everything had been thrown into complete chaos and was far from simple. They had Maximal Elders, well one at least, as well as Maximal Military Commanders on board a Predacon ship, a Predacon surveillance ship at that. Below them the Maximals and Predacons were fighting side by side against the Predacons ancestors, the Decepticons, all of whom were presumed destroyed or reprogrammed, as well as having to hunt for a traitor on board this ship not long having just executed one, and Night-stalker was looking more and more lost to his surroundings. Actually it was this final fact that worried Dive-bomber more than anything, though he wouldn't admit it. Last time Night-stalker had started to look like this he had barely escaped with his life and he wasn't sure that he would this time. He checked himself. Night-stalker was his superior, his friend, he was only like this because of the failures of those around him but when victory finally came he would see him regain his composure and things would return to normal, he knew that, trusted in that. He again read the search team reports, still nothing to report but at least they hadn't found any damage to the ship, yet. Dive-bomber collected the reports onto a data-pad and moved to give the information to Night-stalker.

            He was staring at Stormchaser; he didn't trust him, not one neutron. That upper crust Maximal Elder, always thought he was better than everyone, especially him. He looked forward to the day when he could slowly squeeze his spark to atoms whilst he looked on in agony. Still, he could do it now, couldn't he? He could cloak and stab him right through the spark chamber, make it look like an accident; he'd done that on a number of occasions with many Maximal commanders. But there were those blasted Maximal Generals there to, Lightfire and Nightflight, who knew what they were plotting against him. Behind them stood the Predacon General who had demanded that he be allowed to join them in this military farce. He might be plotting anything, who knew with the military. His data-file said he was a believer in the Predacon covenant, a secret sect with their own version of the covenant of Primus and believed that unless Predacon rule was restored everyone would perish, religious nonsense really, but no doubt they would have a chapter to cover what was going on down below, or maybe that's why he's here, to write that chapter, who could tell with religion? He should be allowed to wipe them out. He could start here, with him, he didn't trust him, Predacon or not. Then there was also Cheetor, that camshaft rendering, diode blowing technorganic. The thought repulsed him. How anyone could allow that 'goo' to touch and reshape their body like that, it was disgusting.

His plan had been perfect, was still perfect, and would no doubt come into play when they defeated the Decepticons. If they defeated the Decepticons he corrected. So much for Obsidian and Strika, the two greatest Generals in modern Cybertronian history my afterburner. If they were so good, why were they still fighting down there? Why hadn't they won? The plan had seemed logical enough when it started, but they had completely misread the situation with Astrotrain. Those fraggin' Decepticons had ruined everything, damn them to the pit. Those gas-guzzling morons had thrown his meticulously perfect plan into disarray. He had been all for teaching Predacon history of his ancestors to the newly created, but bringing them back? Should never have happened, though they knew that it might. They had been preparing a plan to deal with this eventuality, had even told the Maximal Elders that it could happen. Ever since the loss of Ravage they knew, _he_ knew something was going to happen. But they were unprepared, not ready for this eventuality to have occurred so soon. But what was he supposed to do now? He was surrounded by enemies, Stormchaser, Nightflight, Lightfire, Cheetor, wherever the smelting pool he was, that fraggin' religious freak of Predacon, even Obsidian and Strika were possible enemies if they found out the final part of his original plan they were meant to play, but at least he had a way of stopping them if they became troublesome. Instinctively he accessed the controls that would activate the chips implanted in their craniums that would send an electrical impulse through their neural processors. Then there was his own crew. Mostly handpicked, they were the best that was to offer, and still they lost one Maximal and the insect. Why were they so incompetent? Was it his fault? That thought immediately left his neural processor. Of course it wasn't his fault. The security systems were in place, there were guards stationed with both of the 'prisoners', for want of a better term, and what happened? They lost the slaggers, morons. What was the point of having well trained personnel if they couldn't think for themselves? Obeying orders was one thing, something that by losing the prisoners they showed that they couldn't even do, but being caught off guard like that, were they complete imbeciles? After this was all over he would deal with them, deal with them all, all of them plotting behind his back. Darkfires betrayal had been expected, he knew something wasn't right with that 'bot, but the rest of them should know better. It didn't really matter. He'd show them, show them all that they shouldn't try to out think him, they'd all pay, they'd all…he stopped. Were these really his thoughts? Did he really believe the _whole_ ship was plotting against him? The Maximals maybe, but his crew wouldn't be so stupid as to attempt it, would they? He paused again. He'd thought like this once before, a long time ago now but he still remembered what had happened. He had been involved in a border dispute; the Maximals had tried to force the Predacons out of one of their cities claiming that the land was required for 'special works'. His orders had been simple, pretend to negotiate a settlement and then assassinate the leaders, without a head the body would crumble, right? But something had gone wrong. Even with his meticulous planning something had gone wrong. He had, of course, executed the traitors but there had been many. In fact he had executed almost everyone. Maximal, Predacon, it didn't matter, in his mind they had all been traitors. Again he paused as the thoughts from his past ran through his processor again, as it had so often recently. It was Night-stalkers first, his only failure. It would never happen again, he would make sure of it. Someone to his left made a noise, it sounded almost reminiscent of someone clearing their vocal processors, interrupting him from his thoughts. Turning he saw Dive-bomber stood before him, a pad in his hand. How long had he been stood there?

"The report from the search teams" said Dive-bomber, raising his arm to give Night-stalker the pad. Night-stalker just stared at him blankly, but something in his optics made Dive-bomber involuntarily shudder and he instinctively looked down towards Night-stalkers hands where, if death was to come it would spring forth in the shape of large spikes appearing from Night-stalkers wrists, however he was relieved to see that they didn't move from his commanders sides. A noise from behind Night-stalker caught both of their attentions. They both looked round to face Obsidian and Strika, their voices now filling the room as they screamed orders to those on the ground attempting to stop Astrotrain from reaching the other Decepticons.

"All Storm-troopers concentrate fire on Astrotrain, he _must_ _not_ break through!" screamed Strika; it was one of the few times that anyone had ever heard a hint of panic in the Generals normally calm voice. Night-stalker spun to look into his monitor. Dive-bomber could see something in his commander's optics that concerned him. Looking at the monitor he could see Astrotrain in his ground vehicle mode ploughing through the Maximals and Predacons before him, crushing them beneath his wheels. Something had gone badly wrong.

            Astrotrain was almost at the rendezvous point. He could make out the shapes of the other Decepticons towering over the Maximals and Predacons as he crunched his way through. Only a few more astro-seconds and they would use the energon he was carrying to refuel and reclaim their home. Joy and pride swelled through Astrotrain. He would be a hero, it was he who had brought the lifesaving energy to his companions, but as these thoughts filled his mind something struck him from the side. No, it was many something's and, to his horror, he felt himself begin to tip onto his side. Possible courses of action flooded his CPU as he attempted to find a way out of the inevitable. He could transform into his shuttle mode, take off and stop his fall, but there wasn't time. He could transform into robot mode, impossible, Octane and the energon cubes would be crushed. He could…no time. Slag.

            Everybody in the command centre on board Night-stalkers cloaked command ship watched as Astrotrain, in his ground vehicle mode, was blasted onto his left side and was sent skidding along the ground, sparks flying from where his chassis met the metal floor. They could clearly see where the Maximal Storm-troopers missiles had struck leaving a large, smouldering dent on his right side.

"All Storm-troopers advance and terminate the target" Strika commanded, a slight hint of pride welling up in her voice. On the viewer they could see a large group of Maximals approaching Astrotrain cautiously, their weapons raised, when suddenly many of them were blown to the ground by multiple, rippling explosions. Before any of them had chance to fire back Laserbeak and Buzzsaw landed at either end of Astrotrains chassis followed by three of the Insecticons, who were joyfully firing at any and all who attempted to approach.

            "Need a hand their Astrotrain?" Bombshell asked his voice laced with sarcasm. Astrotrain muttered something incomprehensible. "Sorry, what was that?" taunted Bombshell, "You'll have to speak up, we can't hear you"

"Stop messing around and just lift him back onto his wheels" snapped Buzzsaw.

"And what are you gonna do about it if we don't?" replied Ransack, his enjoyment clearly audible, "peck us to death?"

"If you insist," answered Buzzsaw as he leaped into the air and dove on Ransack. Ransack just moved aside in time as Buzzsaws diamond-hard, micro-serrated beak narrowly missed his shoulder. Ransack turned to fire after Buzzsaw when he was blown to the floor by a powerful explosion as a Storm-trooper missile connected with the ground in front of him.

"Looks like the insects have got their courage back," shouted Bombshell motioning towards the Maximals.

"Then lets just lift Astrotrain and get back to killin' 'em," screamed Barrage over the sound of weapons fire.

"Very well" agreed Bombshell. "Ransack, stop playing with the bird and lift this heap back on to its wheels" Ransack scowled as he transformed into his locust form, planting his powerful hind legs under the side of Astrotrains chassis whilst Bombshell and Barrage opened fire on the Maximal Storm-troopers. Just before Ransack started to lift, Astrotrains rear hatch opened and a head popped out.

"Need a hand guys?" asked a battered but none-the-less cheerful Octane. This was answered with a loud crash as Astrotrain was righted back onto his wheels by a powerful kick from Ransack, Laserbeak leaping off at the last second, and the sudden jolt knocked Octane out of the large open rear hatch. Astrotrain immediately closed it blocking Octane's re-entry; and began moving towards the other Decepticons again. Octane briefly looked at the battle around him, the rubble of smashed buildings, the carcasses of Maximals and Predacon who had fallen to superior Decepticon firepower. He smiled briefly before changing into his fuel tanker transform and following after Astrotrain. Again the Maximal Storm-troopers began firing at the advancing Decepticons, however Bombshell, Barrage, Ransack, Buzzsaw and Laserbeak were now firing at them and stopping their attacks on the triple-changers.

            Night-stalker turned away from the monitor shaking his head. He looked up at Dive-bomber a look of disgust on his face. "That was probably our last chance of victory" he stated sombrely, "and as usual the Maximals fragged it up"

Dive-bomber looked at his commander, his friend. The glint that had been in his optic before the attack on Astrotrain that had scared him had been replaced by a weary, resigned look. This was very unusual for Night-stalker and in its own way it worried Dive-bomber even more, at least he had seen the other look before, this one he had never seen and so couldn't fathom what the response might be. He paused as if trying to think of something to say when he was interrupted from his thoughts by a blinking light on the control panel next to him. Turning he flicked a control switch to read the report that the light had signalled was being received. His optics widened and his face dropped. Turning slowly towards Night-stalker he said,

"We may have a problem"

            Cheetor wasn't very happy with Waspinator's plan, but then again it placed the Predacon in more direct danger than himself, which meant that it couldn't be all bad, that and he couldn't think of a better plan himself. They had been able to open the rear hatch of the shuttle without the Predacon searchers noticing, and he was waiting for a signal from Waspinator. The Predacons though didn't seem to be doing very much at all, let alone searching for them. They had seemed to peer in, couldn't see anybody so stepped in far enough for the door to close and now just seemed to be stood near the entrance talking to each other. Cheetor had been sure that they would do a complete search of the shuttle bay and find them, but instead they seemed to be using the fact that no one could see into the shuttle bay as an excuse for a 'time-out'. Oh well, it just made things easier for him and Waspinator, or at least he hoped so. He was currently stood in the back of the shuttle waiting for Waspinator to lead the Predacons to him, then he would use his two swords to permanently deactivate them. It was a thought that he didn't particularly relish. At least when he had been destroying Vehicons they hadn't had any form of real sentience, they had just followed the command codes that were placed upon their limited neural processors, they didn't have sparks, but these Preds were different, they were alive, but then as Waspinator had reminded him, 'it was them or us'. Increasing the power to his audio receptors to be sure to hear everything that happened, he couldn't see the Predacons or Waspinator as he would have had to look around the edge of the shuttle, which would have made it so that the searchers could see him, he stood waiting to bring destruction to the two Predacons. Suddenly he heard a clearly recognisable voice say,

"Excuze me, but I believe you're looking for me?" Immediately after Waspinator had finished speaking Cheetor heard shouts coming from the Predacons followed promptly by rapid laser fire, some of which struck the side of the shuttle perilously close to where Cheetor was stood, so much so that he could feel the increase in temperature of the shuttles hull plating. Not long after the first shots had been fired Waspinator shot around from the side of the shuttle past Cheetor and hid behind him. "I think they took the bait," he buzzed almost panting. Nano-klics later the two Predacons came charging round the corner. Before they noticed him Cheetor was able to strike one across the side of his neck, piercing the primary fuel line to its neural processor, sparks and liquid energon bursting from the wound as the Predacon collapsed to its knees on the floor grasping at its neck in a desperate attempt to stem the flow of energon, shock clearly evident on its face, before it suffered complete systems shutdown and it slumped forwards to the ground, occasional twitches all that showed that the now lifeless husk had ever functioned. However before Cheetor was able to attack the second Predacon he was hit hard in the face by the butt of the guard's weapon. Stumbling backwards Cheetor attempted to steady himself against the side of the shuttle but he was forced to the ground face first by a shot from the guard's weapon that spun him around and opened a large gash in his right shoulder. Cheetor could feel the loss of fluids leaking from the obvious hole in his shoulder, but forced himself to roll onto his back just before a second shot slammed into the shuttles floor, leaving a dark burn mark. Cheetor swung the sword in his left hand blindly trying to hit the guard. He missed, but was able to slice the barrel off of the guard's weapon making it useless. The enraged Predacon roared and lunged forward trying to bring his foot down on Cheetors damaged shoulder, however he suddenly staggered backwards howling in pain as something flew into his face. Focusing, Cheetor was able to see Waspinator flying away from the Predacon leaving what looked to be a thin sliver of metal in the guard's right, golden optic. Before the guard was able to recover Cheetor pushed himself hard off of the ground and slashed the Predacon across the chest leaving a deep gash that penetrated across the outer layers of the guards spark case. The guard cried out in pain and shock as he fell to the ground, quickly slipping into stasis lock. Cheetor slumped forward as he looked into the optics of his opponent to be sure of deactivation. Seeing only darkened optics staring blindly back at him he turned away from the gruesome sight, his left hand clutching his damaged right shoulder, vital fluids leaking slowly out of the open wound. As he looked into the shuttle Cheetor could see Waspinator activating the crafts systems. Hitting the panel at the rear of the shuttle to close the hatch, Cheetor stumbled towards the control seat.

"I believe it'z time to leave," said Waspinator, a slight hint of concern evident in his voice. Cheetor scowled at the Predacon.

"I thought you said we couldn't open the doors?" he said forcefully.

"We can't, but if we fire the shuttles laserzz at full power we should be able to at least damage the doorzz enough to allow our ezzcape"

"Couldn't you have mentioned this earlier?" Cheetor asked, exasperated.

"Maybe, but had hoped to get out eazzier" Waspinator shrugged. Shaking his head Cheetor activated the shuttles hover boosters and the ship rose a few feet into the air whilst it rotated, bringing the weapons to bear on the shuttle bay outer-doors. Hovering over the weapon control Waspinator informed Cheetor, "after we leave the ship we will have a maxzz-imum of 5 nano-klics to activate the cloak before they are able to track uzz, zzo you had better be fazzt" Cheetor nodded to show his understanding. Waspinator fired the forward laser canon and the shuttle lurched towards the damaged hull as Cheetor activated the thrusters.

            "So have you detected weapons fire or not? And if so where?" Night-stalker snapped at Dive-bomber.

"Internal sensors have detected multiple energy discharges, however as most of the internal scanners were deactivated the computer is having difficulty pinpointing the exact source or position of said discharges" Dive-bomber answered, his hands working skilfully over the control console. "However, we can ascertain that the discharges were somewhere on deck seven" Before Night-stalker could ask any more questions the ship rocked violently as an explosion ripped through the hull. Alarm claxons began blazing loudly and the few lights that were operational turned a deep crimson red. A loud, mechanical, computerised voice boomed over the internal communications system,

"Hull breach detected. Shuttle bay doors now inoperative. Damage control teams report to deck seven section fourteen" Night-stalker spun and activated a viewer showing a view just outside of the ship. He briefly saw what looked like a shuttle leaving what remained of the shuttle bay doors before it seemed to waver and disappear.

"Track it!" he screamed turning towards Dive-bomber.

"We can't, they activated the cloak before we could get a lock on their computer frequency"

"What! It's one of our own shuttles! By the pit, we have to know the fraggin' frequency"

"Negative. Until we know which shuttle they've taken we can't track them" Night-stalker slammed his fist into the console in front of him, smashing the cover as a rain of sparks burst forth from its internal workings.

"Not that I really care" said a sneering voice from behind the two Predacons, "but what was that jolt and why do we have a hull breach?" Turning, Night-stalker glared at Stormchaser.

"As soon as something you need to know happens, I'll tell you," snapped Night-stalker.

"More importantly," started Obsidian, "is the cloaking device still operational?" Night-stalker turned to Dive-bomber who was receiving damage reports. Seeing a slight nod, Night-stalker collected himself and calmly answered.

"Of course, everything is under control" Unfortunately, it was a shame he no longer believed his own words.

            Astrotrain and Octane burst through the last of the Maximals and Predacons attacking the Decepticons and stopped alongside their comrades.

"So, who's for a recharge?" Octane asked cockily, clearly enjoying himself. Shockwave turned towards the two triple-changers.

"Move within the shelter of the tunnel entrance, we will begin refuelling from that position," turning towards the other Decepticons he commanded. "All Decepticons will withdraw into the entrance of the tunnel to refuel. Bombshell, Barrage, Ransack, Laserbeak, Buzzsaw, Ratbat, Rumble, Frenzy and Ravage will cover the entrance to block entry by the Maximals and Predacons" he then turned towards Bombshell "what is the current position of the other Insecticons?"

"They are roughly about 2 or 3 megamiles Southwest of our current position"

"Inform them to join us here immediately"

"Understood" Bombshell answered grudgingly. Astrotrain and Octane had already entered the tunnel, Octane releasing six long fuel lines, three either side of his fuel tank, as he drew to a halt whilst Astrotrain opened the large rear hatch of his locomotive transform to allow access to the energon cubes. The other Decepticons retreated inside the tunnel and quickly began pushing and shoving each other out of the way as they attempted to either plug themselves into Octane's fuel lines or grab energon cubes.

"I am a triple-changer, I'm worth any two of you" spat Blitzwing, transforming into his robot form and pushing Thrust to the ground out of his way whilst he picked up one of the fuel lines.

"Soundwave superior, Blitzwing inferior" came Soundwave's monotone as he grabbed the fuel line from the triple-changer.

"Why you slagging rust pile" Blitzwing countered brandishing his electron scimitar, "I'll have your head for that" However before he could swing his weapon it was blown from his hand by a shot from Frenzy, who fired from his position outside of the tunnel, and waved at the angered triple-changer as he looked around to see who had dared to fire on him. At the same time the Constructicons were facing off against the Combaticons in the rear of Astrotrains cargo hold as each tried to be the first group to get to the energon cubes whilst Ramjet, Dirge and the three robots who formed the single mind of Reflector were forcing their way past the Stunticons, minus Breakdown who was still in his vehicle mode, who had decided that they were going to use the final fuel lines emanating from Octane.

"Enough!" cried Shockwave. "Your squabbling serves no purpose and only increases the inefficiency of our situation. Soundwave, Blitzwing, Thrust, Dirge and Ramjet will refuel from Octane. The Constructicons, Combaticons, Stunticons, Spectro, Spyglass and Viewfinder will each refuel using energon cubes. Any further complaints and I will deal with them," He threatened, motioning with his weaponed arm. As none of the others responded against his threat he picked up the final fuel line from the floor and, opening a small input port on the side of his chest, inserted it. The other Decepticons stalked over to their positions and began to refuel.

            "The Decepticons are retreating into the tunnel. Do you think we've won?" asked Nightflight hopefully.

"Unlikely" responded Obsidian. "It is more likely that they are retreating in order to provide cover for themselves to refuel"

"Can't we just destroy the energon cubes?" pushed Stormchaser.

"Possibly, the ground forces have been informed to attempt to attack those targets, however, with the cover being provided by the Insecticons as well as the fact that the energon cubes are now within the confines of the tunnel it makes it even more difficult to hit them" answered Strika matter-of-factly. Just as she finished speaking a Predacon at one of the side consoles turned towards the two Cybertronian Generals.

"Sensors indicate approximately 2000 signatures approaching from the Northeast"

"Designation?" asked Obsidian, turning towards the Predacon.

"Designation is…one moment, we are receiving a signal, putting on speakers now" There was a loud crackle of static, followed by a low electronic hum and a monotonous, computerised voice came over the communications system.

"Vehicon battalion 0001 approaching start position and awaiting commands" A wry grin spread across Obsidians features. He turned towards Strika and whispered something in her audio receiver as the monotone repeated itself over the communications array.

"Agreed" came Strika's answer, as she turned to her console and began relaying orders the Maximal and Predacon forces already in combat, Obsidian turned and activated his comm system to send instructions to the awaiting Vehicons.

"All Vehicons, move into sector Beta Omega and prepare for assault on Decepticon defensive positions" Again the computerised monotone spoke.

"Order acknowledged, preparing for primary assault" The communication system shutdown automatically after the voice had finished speaking whilst the holographic map of the battle area began to show multiple Vehicon signatures moving towards the Decepticons position.

"What have you told the ground forces?" demanded Stormchaser.

"A slight change of plans," answered Strika, "we may not be able to stop the Decepticons from refuelling, however we may be able to trap them long enough for our reinforcements to arrive by collapsing the tunnel entrance"

"Do you really think that the Vehicons will provide enough firepower to make any significant difference to fully energised Decepticons?" queried Lightfire.

"Do you have any better suggestions?" asked Obsidian. When no answer was forthcoming the General turned back to his console as the first salvos from the Maximal Storm-troopers connected with the tunnel entrance.

            "What, by the sacred spires, was that?" shouted Wildrider, instinctively ducking as a powerful explosion ripped through the roof of the tunnel, bringing down a few hunks of metal from the ceiling above.

"Looks like they're trying to bring the roof down on top of us" replied Swindle.

"They probably are. I knew there wouldn't be any point in re-energising," moaned Deadend rotating the energon cube he held in his hand before taking a large gulp from it.

"For someone who thinks there's no point in re-energising, you're sure draining that cube quickly" smiled Dragstrip.

"Well, I can at least enjoy these simple pleasures whilst I function" Deadend retorted. Again more explosions erupted as more missiles ploughed into the tunnel ceiling, bringing large hunks of organic coated metal crashing to the ground around the Decepticons.

"Its lucky they're not slightly more accurate or they might hit the energon cubes," said Vortex.

"Don't push your luck. If you say things like that they _will_ hit the energon cubes," replied Dragstrip motioning towards the many cubes still piled high in the back of Astrotrain. However before anyone else could speak multiple missiles struck the already weakened roof and the entrance to the tunnel collapsed before them blocking their exit.

            Barrage, Rumble and Frenzy dove forward as they narrowly avoided being buried under tonnes of organic covered metal. Bombshell, Ravage and Ransack turned from their position slightly ahead to check whether any debris had hit or damaged their companions.

"So we're definitely outnumbered and out-gunned now," Ransack muttered.

"Good" answered Barrage, picking himself off of the ground, "now we can really have some fun annihilating them without Decepticon interference"

"Decepticon interference" cried Rumble, staggering to his feet, "why I ought-a…" Barrage just looked at the smaller Decepticon with an amused look.

"Why you ought-a what?" he asked before turning towards Ransack "Just look at this, the little guys got guts" He retuned his gaze to the smaller Decepticon, "let me remove 'em for ya and show you what they look like, eh?"

"Silence your squabbling" came a voice from above them. Looking up they saw Venom, Shrapnel, Kickback and Chopshop dive down to greet them. "Use your malice on them, not each other" he finished, motioning towards the Maximals as more missiles ploughed into their armour.

"Hmmm, this group seems to have some more firepower than the last group we attacked, attacked" Shrapnel said to Kickback.

"There also seems to be a lot more of 'em to," agreed Kickback.

"Then perhaps its time we evened the odds, odds," Shrapnel stated. "Bombshell, some Insectishells if you please, please" Bombshell took his queue and fired off one of his grenades which shattered into multiple small fragments of metal. "Now for some reinforcements, reinforcements" continued Shrapnel, firing his electronic clone beams from his antennae. When they struck the metal shards they began to change shape and mould themselves into controllable copies of the Insecticons in their insect modes. "Now this should be fun, fun"

            Her body seemed weightless as she was carried through the air by the undulating air currents of Cybertron. All around her, all she could see was white void, then gradually below her she could see the beauty of the now technorganic planet with its myriad of colours and shapes as the organic plant life covered its metal surfaces and grew over the large metal constructs which the Transformers called home. She looked down upon the last of the cities constructed before the return of organic matter to the surface of the planet, as the plants stretched upwards along the gleaming walls of polished metal. In the centre of the city was the large central dome where thousands flocked daily to marvel at the great shows of the Maximal artisans and enjoy the holographic escapist entertainments of the great Cybertronian authors. Over 250 floors of metal shimmered in the bright white light as the warm glow of her surroundings engulfed her with feelings of joy and happiness. Suddenly the scene before her optics changed into something she would only see in a nightmare. The beautiful, warming white light before her had turned to darkness. All she could hear were the screams of those trying to escape from the massive explosions and fires that were engulfing the city and its surroundings. All around her large menacing shadows strafed the populace below as the wielders of death faced off against the new world order. Again the scene changed and where once there were great structures and life there was nothing but smoke and debris, and the acrid stench of burning flesh, fuel and plant life. Again the scene before her changed and she was forced to watch as below her she saw her friends, Silverbolt and Blackarachnia, gunned down by unseen assailants, shock and fear written across their faces as dark, shrouded figures seemed to appear as if from nowhere around their fallen bodies just to disappear with her friends as quickly as they had appeared. She now saw before her Rattrap, her partner, her soul mate, crying out as if in pain for his life and she tried to call to him, tried to help him, but no sound emanated from her vocal units. She looked on in horror as some form of electron prod was jammed into the side of his body, forcing him to transform from his robot mode, whilst his tail lashed from side to side as he attempted to escape, but to no avail. Suddenly her audio units were filled with the sound of laughter, but not a laugh of joy. Instead the cold, malevolent, spark-less sound drowned out every other sound about her. Then she saw them, saw the glowing scarlet optics as again the laughter rang out, the maniacal look in those optics chilled her to her very spark as before her she saw what remained of the plant life withering below, and the only light that she could see emanated from the glow of two spheres floating above the ground seemingly facing off against each other, one a bright golden colour the other an iridescent silver, and a voice boomed out over all other sounds but somehow she couldn't understand its words. Again the voice rang out, merging with the maniacal laughter to form a cacophony of sound that impacted against her audio sensors like the beating off a base drum whilst all around her was engulfed in flame, and the smell of burning organic tissue.

Botanica awoke, the thoughts of her vision still vivid in her mind. She began to consider what she had just seen, was it a vision from the Oracle, and if so what did it mean? However, before she could think of an answer she felt something sharp and metallic slide into her abdomen and she suddenly realised that her optics and audio sensors weren't functioning. With all the strength she could muster, and fighting against the pain in her abdomen, she reactivated her systems. The sound of screams almost brought her to deactivate her audio sensors immediately, but she persevered, and through the noise she could hear that at least two of the screams were coming from voices she recognised. Blackarachnia and Rattrap, crying out in pain. She forced her optics to focus and before her she saw three Predacons standing approximately 2ft away from her, two of them holding data-pads whilst the third held the long, cylindrical probe that had been inserted into her abdomen. Approximately 20ft away she could just make out the silhouette of Rattrap, chained up about 5ft off of the ground above a spherical white light, by energon bonds strapped to his arms, as a further group of three Predacons stood in front of him. A scream from her left forced her to try and move her head, when to her shock she realised that she physically couldn't. As this realisation dawned on her she suddenly felt the burning sensation on her arms of the energon bonds that held her in the air as her awareness of the things around her increased as her systems returned to operating capacity.

"She appears to have regained consciousness," said the Predacon holding the probe, his crimson optics burning into her with malice.

"So, she has come out of the trance again," said a tall Predacon holding a pad.

"Each 'vision' appears to last approximately two cycles," said the shorter one.

"And none of the other subjects have been able to access these 'visions'?" asked the taller Predacon.

"Negative" answered the shorter one.

"Have we determined how she accesses the Oracle and what it tells her? Assuming of course that she accesses the Oracle," pressed the taller one.

"Negative" came the shorter Predacons reply.

"Very well" sighed the taller Predacon. "Restart the experiment" The Predacon with the crimson optics grinned and pressed a control on the probe. An excruciating pain shot through Botanica's 'nervous system' and before she could cry out again her vision turned white.

            "So, how do you reckon we get outta this one?" Longhaul asked, nudging Scrapper in the side and motioning towards the pile of twisted metal that blocked the Decepticons exit from the tunnel.

"Simple," answered Scrapper, "we'll be ordered to move the mess"

"What do we need you for," laughed Motormaster, "we could easily shift this scrap without your help"

"Really?" returned Scrapper, "then be my guest" he finished by motioning towards the blockage. Motormaster turned towards the exit and fired his cyclone gun. A few chunks of splintered metal exploded from the pile, but for the most part it remained intact. Bonecrusher laughed,

"So much for the 'King of the road', he can't even move a few tonnes of scrap"

"Maybe not, but I'm sure I could move your cranium from your chassis" Motormaster roared brandishing his sword.

"Silence" shouted Shockwave, advancing towards the two gestalt teams. "Cease your squabbling, your inane babble will not assist the situation" He looked towards the Constructicons. "Scrapper, you and the Constructicons will remove this material from our path. The Stunticons and Combaticons will cover you in case there should be a mishap" The Constructicons moved towards the rubble, transforming into their vehicle modes as they did so. When he was out of audio range Scrapper radioed to Longhaul.

"See, what did I tell you? I said we'd do all the menial work"

Shockwave moved back towards Soundwave, who was attempting to penetrate the rubble blocking their path with a communications signal and talk with the others outside, however something was blocking the transmissions. "Has there been any response to your signals?" he asked.

"Negative" came the monosyllabic reply, "communication signals unable to penetrate the blockage"

"Supposition?"

"The organic material"

"Explanation?"

"It is possible that the neural signature that we detected the organism contained is in some way effecting our ability to communicate through it, however further study is required"

"Very well, proceed" As Shockwave began to turn away from Soundwave he had his attention returned to the communications officer as he shouted,

"Unidentified life forms approaching"

"From where?" Shockwave demanded. Soundwave pointed down the tunnel.

"There" As Shockwave looked in the direction that the blue Decepticon had pointed he saw three sets of glowing scarlet optics advancing toward them.

            The Maximals and Predacons fired wildly as the Insecticons and their clones advanced on them. Cries could be heard throughout the nearby areas of the battlefield as the clones leapt onto the defending Maximals and Predacons and began to devour them whilst they still functioned. Maximal Storm-troopers fired volley upon volley of high yield missiles against the Decepticons and found that, unlike the standard Insecticons and Decepticons, the Insecticon clones chassis weren't as strong as those they were copied from and their missiles were able to penetrate into their inner workings and destroyed them from the inside. Explosions and flying debris littered the area as more and more clones came into contact with the final groups of Maximals and Predacons as they attempted to regroup against their larger aggressors whilst they waited for Vehicon reinforcements. Radio traffic was vast, and sometimes confusing, as individual troops relayed information to their commanders who in turn radioed Obsidian and Strika who gave their orders to the ground and aerial forces.

Laserbeak, Buzzsaw and Ratbat were forced to stay near the Insecticons as they were now starting to feel the lack of energon that had previously affected their comrades, whilst Rumble and Ravage stood over Frenzy who, though still functional, lay wounded with energon leaking from a large hole from a missile that had pierced his left shoulder and the subsequent explosion had damaged his motor relays down his entire left side of his body. Suddenly Ratbat cried out in pain as a missile ripped through his right wing and he fell quickly to the ground in a heap. Laserbeak dove to the ground after his comrade and helped him onto his feet, but not before another missile grazed him across his back. Rumble turned to help his comrades as a technorganic Maximal in his modified 'cat' mode leaped onto him and began clawing at his back.

"Ahhh" screamed Rumble, whilst attempting to grab the Maximal. "Get it off, get it off, get it off!" Ravage turned and fired at the Maximal at point blank range, though because of the lack of power his weapon held, it only blew it off Rumble and it was able to return to its comrades with only limited damage.

"This is getting ridiculous," muttered Ravage. "We should be trying to find a way to get through that rubble, if only so we can get in and refuel"

"To do that we're gonna need some help, and I doubt that the Insecticons 'll give us any" answered Rumble.

"Somebody ask for some help," cried a voice from nearby. Turning the cassettes saw two fast moving vehicles burst through the Maximal lines and quickly transform into their robot modes. "So, who wants help?" asked Runabout.

"It had better be help to kill something, or I ain't gonna be of any" replied Runamuck, firing rapidly into the throng of Maximals that the two Battlechargers had just burst from.

"If you could give us a hand clearing away some of this rubble…" began Ravage, but before he could finish his sentence there was a gigantic explosion and the metal that was covering the entrance to the tunnel exploded outwards, narrowly missing the waiting Decepticons. From inside a powerful, mechanical voice cried,

"ATTACK" At once Decepticons burst from the now reopened passage. Six aircraft screamed overhead as they began strafing any Maximal or Predacon that stood in their way. The Constructicons, Combaticons, Stunticons, Astrotrain, Octane, Spectro, Spyglass and Viewfinder charged out on foot, the Constructicons quickly spotting the injured and began dragging them back inside the cover of the passage for repairs. The sound of heavy footsteps could be heard from inside the passage and as many Maximals and Predacons looked in that direction they saw three sets of optics advancing towards them, though most were transfixed by the glowing scarlet optics of the central mechanoid that were filled with loathing and contempt. As it moved into the light, gasps of terror rose from those before it as they looked upon the hulking, silver-grey chassis that towered above them.

"Its…its…"

"Run!"

"Every Predacon for himself!"

"It's the Slag Maker!"

            Obsidian turned toward Strika. They had seen the entrance to the tunnel cleared of rubble and the Decepticons piling out. Now, listening to the radio signals coming from the troops from the ground they could hear the panic rising from them as many turned tail and fled.

"Magnify sector fourteen" commanded Strika. "We must see what the problem is" As the viewer magnified on the tunnel entrance a large silver-grey robot, flanked by Shockwave and Soundwave exited the chasm.

"That's impossible, he's dead," muttered Nightflight from behind the two Generals.

"It's a sign," cried the Predacon General.

"It's pretty fragged up," muttered Night-stalker.

"Heathen" the General spat, as he turned toward Night-stalker. "The Slag Maker has returned and we are all doomed, so says the covenant"

            Starstrike sat on his 'throne', his mouth agape. Before him he watched the battle as the Decepticons burst from the tunnel. He thought he had a malfunction in his optical sensors as he watched the jets fly from the hole in the ground. Ramjet, Blitzwing, Dirge and Thrust he had expected to see, but the two leading aircraft were original design 'seeker' fighters, two he recognised instantly. But they're dead, he thought, but now before him he could see them, the past had returned to haunt him, as he had done to do to it so often. For the first time in millennia he felt the slightest twinge of fear as his optics fell on the silver-grey giant that stood before him on the viewer. His mouth formed the words that his vocal sub-processor couldn't, and he leaped from his chair, wonder and puzzlement filling his entire being and the words from long ago filled his mind,

"Megatron, is that you?"

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A/N: Wow, that only took me, what? Two months to put up. Hopefully later chapters will come together quicker now that I've finished Uni (for those of you that care I passed with second class honours)

Anyhew, please review, cheers.


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